Rogue
by ddpjclaf
Summary: Someone is collecting 'the best of the best' from each branch of the supernatural community. What will the Shadowhunters do when one of their own is the next target? Rated M for sexy scenes. Post COG & PRE COFA. COFA did not exist, nor did talks of it when this story was started. All info learned in COFA, including what the Mark of Cain does, is irrelevant to this story.
1. Chapter 1

****The characters of The Mortal Instruments are owned by Cassandra Clare. The original content, ideas and intellectual property of this story are owned by ddpjclaf, 2009. Please do not copy, reproduce, or translate without express written permission.****

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For the seventh time in the span of three minutes, Clary's head bashed against the sparring mat. With a groan, she reached up and ran a hand through the back of her hair, feeling the lump that had started to form.

"By the Angel, Jace! Do you have to be so rough?" Black spots danced before her eyes as the dull pain spread from the back of her skull to the front. Her body ached everywhere.

Jace lingered over her, his legs straddling her abdomen and his hands on either side of her head. "You think the demons are going to take it easier on you?" He grabbed her arms and pinned them to the floor next to her face.

"Probably." She looked up at him. His golden eyes glowed with an excitement she'd only seen in them when fighting. His wet hair clung to his head and drips of sweat rolled off the ends of the untidy blond curls. "There is something seriously wrong with you when it comes to fighting."

"This isn't fighting, Clary. It's training."

"Fine. It's training." She blew out a frustrated breath. "Why do you always have to take it so seriously?"

"If I don't you'll be dead."

She scowled. "I think I've done pretty well so far. No one's killed me yet."

"Yet being the operative word." His eyes gave no indication of sarcasm. "Now, what do you do next if you're pinned like this?"

She knew what she _should_ do, what he'd trained her to do, but she didn't feel like playing by his rules right now. His face hovered only a few inches above hers. She knew he'd be mad and that it would hurt, but she didn't care. She was sick of training being more important than everything else. Steeling herself against the inevitable pain and Jace's wrath, she thrust her head forward and smashed into his. With a shocked gasp, he jerked back, his grip on her arms loosening. Clary took advantage of his momentary distraction and pushed him backward to the mat, switching positions so she now straddled him.

His hands flew to his head. "Damn it, Clary! How many times do I have to tell you that nobody wins with a head butt?"

She laughed through her own pain and reached down, taking his hands from his face and interlacing her fingers with his. "I think I just did."

He scowled at her. His expression showed no amusement.

"I'm sorry." She planted a soft kiss on his lips. "But you have to admit, it was a pretty good move."

"Clary." He sighed. "Why won't you take this more seriously? I just want you to be prepared. You know I'll do everything in my power to keep you safe, but as the past has proven, I can't be there all the time."

"I know that and I am. It just can't be everything."

"I never said it was everything."

"Come on, Jace. All we ever do is train." She released one of his hands and moved a wet curl off from his forehead. "I _know_ how important it is and you're an excellent teacher, but . . ."

"But, what?" He watched her curiously.

"But, as much as I like badass Shadowhunter Jace, I miss my boyfriend." She raised her eyes to meet his, relieved to see they'd softened a bit. "Can't you let him come out to play, just for a little while?"

Instead of answering, he reached up, ran his hand around to the back of her neck and pulled her down to him. As usual, when their lips met, an explosion of heat burst in Clary's chest, flooding every inch of her body. If she had her way, she'd spend every second of every day kissing Jace. Not just because it felt absolutely amazing, but also because it had the ability to make her forget everything else. Even the fact that the training room was not in the least bit private.

"Ah-hem," an annoyed voice spoke from the doorway. "How many times do I have to tell you guys that this room is meant for training not making out? You know, it could've been Mom walking in here instead of me."

Clary bent her head toward the voice and grinned. Isabelle stood near the door, a frown affixed to her face. Her black hair cascaded over her shoulders, almost touching the hand she had on her hip. "We were training, Izzy."

"That," she pointed to them and their precarious position, "does not look like training to me."

"Hey Iz, did you find them—whoa!" Alec stepped through the doorway, but stopped abruptly when he caught sight of Clary and Jace. A smile broke over his face. "Well, well, looks like somebody finally got the best of you, huh Jace?"

"Shut up, Alec," Jace growled.

Clary laughed. "He's just embarrassed. I totally did." She placed another small kiss on his mouth and pushed herself to her feet. "What's up guys? You need the mat?"

"No." Isabelle smirked at Jace and then turned back to Clary. "We're going to Taki's to get some takeout, wondered if you wanted anything."

"Sure," Clary said. "Hey, how about we just go out? It's been awhile since I got out of here." She shot a glare at Jace who raised his eyebrows in response.

"For crying out loud Jace," Isabelle said. "You suck as a boyfriend. Take your girl out once and awhile."

"Maybe I would if you two actually did your part with Clary's training," he said.

Isabelle scoffed. "Doesn't look like you mind it much."

Jace narrowed his eyes at her.

Alec laughed. "So, how'd you do it Clary? How'd you get it over on him?"

"If I told you, Alec, it wouldn't be a secret now would it?"

"Ah, seduction, got it. You plan on seducing all the demons who attack you, too?"

Clary grinned. "Nah, just the hot ones." She turned and winked at Jace then strode out the door.

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The hot water felt like heaven on Clary's tired muscles. She hadn't been lying when she said Jace was a good teacher, he really was. She'd learned more in the two weeks since they'd returned from Idris than any battle they had before. Of course, she was nowhere near as good as him and suspected she never would be. The way he could anticipate every move—other than her glorious head butt—and the way his body moved through every sequence amazed her. However, he was totally ruthless. It never mattered how tired she got, he just pushed harder. She knew when the time came and she faced a real demon, she'd be thankful for his persistence. But for the moment, she was just happy for the shower.

When the water started running cold, she twisted the knobs tight and stepped out, wrapping her body in a fluffy white towel. Her room at the institute was the same as everyone else's. The bedroom portion consisted of a twin-sized bed, dresser, nightstand, closet and small attached full bathroom. It was pretty stark in comparison to her room back at Luke's, but she was happy to just be here.

Her mother, Jocelyn, had put up quite a fight when the suggestion of her moving there came up.

"Absolutely not," Jocelyn said, shaking her head violently.

"Mom! You know it's important for me to train. After everything that happened in Idris, I thought you'd finally put to rest your crazy dreams about keeping me out of the Shadowhunter world."

"That's not it."

Clary glared at her mother. "Why then?"

Jocelyn looked away, unwilling to meet Clary's eyes.

Clary's brows shot up in realization. "It's Jace isn't it?"

"Clary, I understand what it's like to be young and—and in love." Jocelyn swallowed hard. "I just—I just don't know that it's a good idea for you two to live under the same roof."

"Mom, it's not like we'd be sharing a room!"

Jocelyn winced.

"Seriously, Mom, the Institute is huge. And it isn't like Maryse wouldn't be there most of the time. The woman has eyes like a hawk. You wouldn't have to worry about Jace and me."

"Clary, I don't know . . ."

She knew her mother was breaking down. The mention of Maryse's presence eased her fear—Clary knew it would. Maryse was scary. "I'll let you pick out my room. You can pick one as far from Jace's as you want."

Jocelyn glanced up, her lips pursed in an attempt not to smile. "You know I'm not thrilled with this, right?"

Clary's heart sped up in her chest. "Does that mean yes?"

Jocelyn sighed and nodded. Clary squealed and threw her arms around Jocelyn's shoulders. "But," Jocelyn continued, "I get to pick your room—and it will be as far from Jace's as humanly possible—and I want you to promise me something."

Clary pulled back and met her mother's gaze. "What, Mom?"

"Just promise me you'll be careful. With training and with Jace."

"Mom!"

"Clary, I wasn't born yesterday. Just promise me and make me feel a little better about letting you do this."

"I promise, Mom."

Jocelyn wrapped her arms around Clary once more. "I can't believe I'm allowing this. I mean, it's bad enough that you'll be training to kill demons, but you'll be doing it while living a few doors down from your boyfriend. I must be insane."

"You're not insane, Mom. You just know this is what's best for me. Thank you."

Jocelyn wasn't kidding when she said she'd find the room furthest from Jace as possible. She'd picked one on the complete opposite end of the hall. Clary didn't mind and neither did Jace. She was just glad Jocelyn allowed her to stay on the same floor. Luckily, her room was only a few doors down from Isabelle, so it wasn't all bad.

Clary heard a knock on the door. She tucked the towel tighter around her and opened it a crack. Isabelle scowled when she saw Clary wasn't dressed.

"How long does it take for you to shower?" She barreled her way into the room.

"Sorry." Clary closed the door, walked over to the closet and started pawing through various shirts and sweaters. "I worked out hard today and the hot water just felt so good."

"Uh-huh, sure."

"Shut-up, Izzy."

Isabelle laughed and plopped down on the bed.

Clary grabbed a green t-shirt that said, "Kiss Me I'm Irish," from its hanger—a gift from Simon who told her that since she looked Irish she should have one. She'd told him that just because she was pale with red-hair didn't mean she was Irish nor did it mean she needed a shirt that invited any old fool to kiss her. He bought her the shirt anyway.

She made her way over to the dresser, grabbed a pair of white cotton underwear and matching bra from the top drawer and a pair of jeans from the bottom.

"God, your wardrobe is pathetic," Isabelle said.

Clary glanced over at Isabelle's tight black leather pants, thigh high boots, white blouse and long black trench coat. "Not all of us can be fashion goddesses, your majesty."

"You could if you let me shop for you."

Clary laughed, pulled on the underwear and then dropped the towel. Isabelle gasped.

"What?" Clary turned to her.

She held her hand to her mouth, her eyes wide with shock. "He really worked you over didn't he?"

Clary glanced down at her body. Purplish bruises in the shape of Jace's hands covered the skin of her upper torso. "Huh, I guess so. No wonder I'm so sore."

Isabelle reached to the nightstand next to the bed, picked up Clary's stele, and flicked it across the room to her. Clary caught the small, cold instrument in her hand and studied it for a moment before placing it on top of the dresser.

"What are you doing? Use it. You'll feel better."

"I don't know." Clary moved to stand in front of the floor length mirror on the closet door, studying her reflection. "I kinda like it. It makes me feel like I'm actually accomplishing something. Like war wounds or something."

"God, you're just as sadistic as Jace. You two are a match made in Heaven."

Clary laughed, pulled her clothes on, ran a brush through her hair, and turned back to Isabelle. "Okay, I'm ready."

Isabelle rolled her eyes. "It's a good thing you already have a boyfriend because there's no way you'd attract any sort of man looking like that."

Clary looked down at herself. What was wrong with jeans and a T-shirt? "I think I look fine."

"Whatever." Isabelle walked over to the dresser and grabbed Clary's stele, handing it to her. "Don't forget this. Jace would have your head."

Clary grinned and pocketed the stele. "I'm not scared of Jace. I know how to handle him."

Isabelle laughed. "I'm sure you do."

Grabbing a jacket from the hook on the back of her door, Clary followed Isabelle out of the room and down the hall. Jace and Alec waited for them near the elevator. Clary grinned as she spotted Jace dressed completely in black, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets. A glint of silver from his belt caught Clary's eye. She knew he hid a myriad of weapons under his long coat.

"Finally," Alec said when he spotted them. "I'm starving. What took so long?"

Isabelle cocked a thumb over her shoulder at Clary. "Apparently working out with Jace is dirtier business than we thought."

"Thanks for the mental image, Izzy." Alec scrunched his nose and turned to press the elevator button.

"No problem." She shoved her gleaming black hair over her shoulder. "I figure if I have to endure it so should you."

Jace smiled, shook his head, and lowered his gaze to the floor. Isabelle's teasing was nothing new for either of them. Both Clary and Jace attributed it to her extreme jealousy over not having found Mr. Right for herself. Clary thought maybe Simon would be the one for Izzy, but things had cooled down considerably since their return from Idris. She knew Simon had feelings for Isabelle, but because of his duties for the New York vampire clan, he didn't have time for much of anything anymore. Being the only known daylighter put a serious cramp in his love life—and consequently Isabelle's too.

Clary walked up to Jace, stood on tip toes, and kissed his cheek before grasping his hand. He grinned down at her just as the elevator dinged open. The group rode down in silence, which was a first since Isabelle usually couldn't stand not hearing herself talk. Clary just enjoyed the feeling of Jace's hand in hers. He'd been so distant lately, even now she didn't feel the warmth radiating off from him that she used to. She wished she knew what was bothering him, but every time she asked, he'd make some excuse about being distracted with training stuff. She didn't buy it.

The elevator came to a stop and the doors slid open. Isabelle and Alec bounded out, making their way quickly toward the front door. Clary tugged on Jace's arm, holding him back.

He met her eyes, questions in his.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know. You just seem so . . . distant lately."

"I'm fine, Clary." He bent down and brushed his lips against hers. "You worry too much."

She stared at him skeptically. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

He rolled his eyes. "Yes. I know. There's nothing wrong, I promise."

She narrowed her eyes. "You're a really crappy liar, Jace. But fine, don't tell me." She jerked her hand out of his and stalked forward to meet up with Alec and Isabelle.

"Clary—wait," he called.

She sighed and turned to face him, her hands on her hips.

"It's really nothing—just my overprotective side, okay?"

"What are you talking about?"

He let out a slow breath and raised his gaze to the ceiling before meeting hers. "It's hard for me to watch you—you know, fight."

"I thought we weren't fighting, we were training."

He smirked. "Don't be a smart ass."

"I come by it honestly." She raised her brows at him.

He stepped closer to her, placing his hands on her waist. "You know what I mean. My first instinct is to protect you, always protect you. So, fight—training with you is difficult for me. Don't get me wrong, it's good for you—I know that—it's just hard for me to see you hurt. Especially since I know that I'm the one hurting you."

Clary raised her hands to his face. "Stop looking at it like you're hurting me. I don't see it that way. You _are_ protecting me. You're teaching me to defend myself, that's the best thing you could ever do for me." She stretched up and kissed him. "Now quit pouting and let's have some fun."

He grinned. "Fun, huh?" He gripped her waist tighter and pulled her roughly to him. She giggled as his lips met hers and his hands twisted in her hair, holding her against him. Clary's heart pounded in her chest and she fell into Jace's arms, allowing the feel of him to completely envelop her.

"Uh, guys?" Clary heard Isabelle's voice from further down the aisle, but chose to ignore it as she engrossed herself in Jace's kiss.

"Guys!" Izzy's voice came more forcefully.

Jace pulled away and snarled, "What—" The word died on his lips as the color drained from his face and his eyes widened.

Clary furrowed her brows at the look on his face and turned to follow his gaze. A gasp escaped her lips as she caught sight of what awaited them at the door.

Simon stood just outside the gate, his dark hair plastered to his face and his clothing torn almost to shreds. Dark red stains smeared across his body. A deep, healing gash stretched the length of his chest and a giant set of teeth marks encased his right arm.

"Simon?" Clary managed before tearing herself from Jace's embrace and bolting outside. When she reached him, she cried out. "What happened?"

His eyes passed over her shoulder and met Jace's before finding hers. "We have a problem. A big problem." And then he collapsed to the ground.


	2. Chapter 2

****The characters of The Mortal Instruments are owned by Cassandra Clare. The original content, ideas and intellectual property of this story are owned by ddpjclaf, 2009. Please do not copy, reproduce, or translate without express written permission.****

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"Simon!" Clary dropped to the ground beside him. Jace, Isabelle and Alec followed close behind her. "Simon! Are you all right?" She pulled his head into her lap. As a vampire, his skin was always pale and cold, but he seemed even more so to her then. Clary's hands traveled down to his chest. The hole that had been gaping just moments before had almost closed. She ran her fingers over the nearly healed skin.

"I—I think so." He grimaced and glanced down at the shreds of fabric hanging from his shoulders. "Man, I liked that shirt, too!" He fought to sit up, only to fall back into Clary's lap.

"You are not all right," Clary said, her hands trembling against his skin.

"No, I am." He held up his hand and slowly sat upright. "I just lost too much blood. Once I replenish it, I'll be fine."

"So you came here?" Jace asked. "What do we look like? An all you can eat buffet? I know you've delighted in my blood once before, and although I'm positive it was quite delectable, I'm not really interested in being your blood bank."

Simon rolled his eyes and turned his gaze back to Clary. "Seriously, how do you put up with him? Is it just the looks? I mean, I guess he's all right—if you go for that blond surfer sort of thing—"

Clary glared at Jace. "Jace is—an acquired taste."

"He already knows what I taste like." Jace grinned. "Tell her how delicious I am."

Clary rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to Simon. "What happened to you?"

Simon looked around nervously. "I—I'm not sure we should talk out in the open like this."

"Well, you can't come into the institute since it's hallowed ground," Clary said, "but—hey we were just on our way to Taki's. It's usually not very busy and you can get blood there."

Jace knelt down beside them. "That sounds great and everything, but how's he going to get in looking like that? No shirt, no service. Says so right on the door."

"That's true." Clary looked down at Simon's tattered, blood-stained shirt again then snapped her head back up to Jace. "Jace, take off your shirt."

Jace raised his brows. "Clary, you know I'm always willing to take off my clothes for you, but I'm not sure this is the time or place for that."

"Oh, would you just shut up and give me your shirt." Clary held out her hand expectantly.

"But, if I give the vampire my shirt what am I supposed to wear?"

"I happen to know for a fact you're wearing a tank top under that."

"How do you know 'for a fact?'"

Clary reached over and ran her hand down his chest. "Because you always do, and I can feel it through your shirt. Now, quit screwing around and give it to me."

Jace scowled, shrugged off his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt, throwing it in Simon's face. "Happy now?"

"Yes." Clary leaned forward and kissed him. "Thank you."

Simon made a gagging sound while Alec and Isabelle chuckled in the background.

"What are you laughing at?" Jace growled at them.

"Dude, she's so got you whipped." Alec grinned.

Jace's fists clenched at his sides and he went to stand. Clary grabbed his arm. "No, he's not. He just cares about me and knew it would make me happy if he gave it to me."

Alec coughed what conveniently sounded like "whipped."

Jace kicked out and swiped Alec off his feet. He landed with a thud on the hard ground.

Isabelle could barely contain her laughter. "You guys are so mature."

Clary ignored them and helped Simon by gathering up the discarded strips of his shirt. "Jace, can you help me with him?"

Surprisingly, Jace didn't put up an argument. He put his arm around Simon's back and heaved him up off the ground. Clary stepped up to Simon's other side and wrapped her arm around his back as well, lightly touching Jace's hand as she positioned herself as a second crutch. No one spoke as they made their way to Taki's.

As expected, the restaurant was pretty much empty. Only a couple of warlocks, one with bright green spiked hair and a nose ring, and the other with shoulder length white hair that sparkled like glitter sat at the bar. The group chose a table as far from the door and the warlocks as possible. Clary found herself smooshed in between Jace and Simon. Jace and Alec grabbed menus immediately, although Clary knew they always ordered the same things. She wondered why they bothered looking at all.

Kaelie, the waitress, ambled up to them, her blue-white wings fluttering behind her. Her eyes flicked to Jace, a small smile tweaked up the corner of her mouth. Clary clenched her fist under the table. Even though she already knew Jace had dated the pixie, she still didn't like her looking at him that way. Clary felt Jace's hand on hers under the table. She glanced over at him. His eyes never left the menu but a small smirk played on his lips. Clary scowled and knocked his knee with hers. His smile grew wider.

"Do you know what you want?" Kaelie asked impatiently, tapping her birch twig pen against the small pad in her hands.

Jace met her eyes, a huge goofy smile plastered on his face. "Well, first of all we need a big old glass of red blood cells for our hemoglobinly challenged friend here." He gestured to Simon.

"Any specific kind?" Kaelie directed her question to Simon.

If he could have blushed, Clary thought he would have. Even though he had accepted his new life as a vampire, the blood drinking still embarrassed him. "No, whatever you have is fine."

The others placed their orders and waited for the pixie to retreat back to the counter before turning expectantly to Simon.

"So, vampire," Jace began, "what's the deal?"

Simon looked around; making sure no one was eavesdropping. "To be honest, I don't really know. One minute Kristof, Jared, Lenny and I were—well, we were taking care of some of our vamp duties—and then the next we were laying in pools of our own blood. It all happened so fast—and that's saying something considering our super hearing and fast reflexes. But whatever it was—whatever _they_ were—they moved faster and were so much stronger than us."

"So, someone's attacking vamps. Is that why you came to us?" Alec asked.

"Not exactly," Simon's eyes met Jace's. "After one of those things struck out at me—it bit my arm." He gestured to the arm Clary noticed the large teeth marks in earlier. "Kristof knocked me out of the way and into a jagged piece of metal against the alley wall. Before I blacked out, I heard one of them asking—no demanding—to know where the daylighter was. Obviously, since I'm still here and my pieces aren't splattered all over the walls of Seventeenth Street's alley like the others, they didn't give me up."

Simon stopped speaking as Kaelie returned with their orders. He took his glass of blood and downed it in record time. "Can I have another?"

Kaelie nodded, grabbed the empty glass and retreated to the counter. She stretched over it, balancing on her tip toes, showing off bright pink underwear and retrieved a bottle of deep red liquid from a small refrigerator. Simon's mouth dropped open. Clary whipped her head over to Jace who chuckled into his sweet potato fries. She elbowed him in the side and glared when he looked up at her.

"What?" he asked, feigning innocence.

Clary's response was halted with Kaelie's return. She placed another full glass of blood in front of Simon and asked, "Anything else?"

Everyone shook their heads and mumbled their thanks.

When she left, Jace picked up a fry and held it out in front of him. "So, you're saying that these—whatever they are—were looking for you. Why didn't they just take you then? If they knew anything about what happened in Idris they'd know that the daylighter is the one with the mark." He gestured to Simon's forehead.

"I don't know. I guess maybe they didn't see it." Simon sucked on the straw, draining his glass of the last drops of blood. What little color he normally had returned to his cheeks. Blue veins appeared in his neck, carrying the newly digested blood throughout his body and regenerating his damaged tissue.

"I get why this is an issue and why you came to us, but why did you say we had a big problem. I got the idea maybe you weren't talking about the attack itself?" Isabelle lifted her glass and guided the straw to her mouth with her tongue.

Simon blinked a few times, seemingly entranced by something. "Uh . . . no, you're right. I remembered something else. Something they said just before everything went black."

"Which was?" Jace leaned over Clary.

Simon met Jace's eyes. "They said. 'It's the blood. The blood is the key.'"

###

"The blood is the key? What's that supposed to mean?" Isabelle asked as she and Clary made their way back to the institute. Jace and Alec took Simon home. They didn't want to risk him being found alone by whoever was looking for him.

"I don't know," Clary said.

"They couldn't mean Simon's blood, right? I mean, I assume this is all about him walking in the sun, and that they probably want to know why he can. But, do they really think we wouldn't have tested all of that?"

Clary shrugged. "Who knows? You would think his blood would be different from other vampires, but it's not. It's weird."

"Maybe they really don't know and are planning to find out for themsleves."

"Or, maybe they weren't talking about Simon's blood at all."

"Then who's?"

Clary shrugged as the elevator came to a stop and the doors slid open. She started a bit when she saw who waited on the other side.

"Mom?" Jocelyn stood at the opening, her auburn hair swept up in a clip on the back of her head. She fiddled with a long strand that had fallen free near the side of her face. "What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here? I came to see my daughter! Is this a bad time?" Jocelyn looked into the elevator, probably to see if Jace was there, too.

"No, we were just coming back from dinner." Clary stepped out and wrapped her arms around Jocelyn in an awkward hug.

Jocelyn pulled back and studied Clary, brushing a strand of hair off from her forehead. "You look tired."

Clary looped her arm through Jocelyn's and led her down the hall near her room. "I've been training hard, so yeah, I'm a little tired."

They reached Clary's room and went inside. Clary hung her jacket back on the hook and then plopped down on the bed, gesturing for Jocelyn to join her. "Sorry, I don't have any chairs yet. I'm barely in here so it hasn't really mattered to this point."

Jocelyn gave Clary a forced smile.

"Mom, what's going on? And don't tell me nothing, I can tell by the look on your face that something's wrong."

Jocelyn lowered her face, raised her hand, and rubbed her thumb and pointer finger across her forehead. "Luke got called out by the pack tonight. There was an attack on some of the members. A few of them were killed."

Clary raised her hand to her mouth. "Oh no, Mom. Who—what—?"

Jocelyn shook her head. "I don't know the specifics, only what I heard from Luke as he rushed out the door." She turned and met Clary's eyes. "It sounded really bad, like they were ripped apart by—something."

Clary's chest tightened at her mother's words. "You mean—they don't know what did this?"

"Not a clue. This isn't like any demon attack we've ever seen. Whatever this is, it's strong, really strong." Jocelyn grabbed Clary's hands. "I just—I needed to come make sure you were all right."

"Yeah, Mom, why wouldn't I be?"

"Sooner or later, I'm sure the Nephilim will become involved, and I—I—"

Clary reached over and pulled Jocelyn in a tight hug. "Mom, don't worry about me, okay?"

"Clary, I'm your mother, it's my job to worry." She brushed her fingers down Clary's cheek. "Just promise me you're going to be careful. I know that this is the life you've chosen and there's nothing I can do to stop you, but just please—please be careful."

"Of course I will—" Clary was cut off by a soft knock on the door. "Come in."

The door opened and Jace stuck his head in the door. His eyes widened at the sight of Jocelyn sitting on Clary's bed. "Oh, sorry. I thought you were alone."

"Jace." Jocelyn's voice was stiff and formal. She turned back to Clary, her eyes flat. "Well, I better be going. I don't want to be gone when Luke returns. Remember what I said, be careful." She leaned over, kissed Clary on the forehead and stood.

Jace opened the door as wide as it would go and stepped out into the hall as Jocelyn passed. Clary came out behind her. "Call me when you get some news, okay?"

"I will, honey." Jocelyn smiled and gave Jace a short nod before making her way down the hall and into the elevator.

Jace let out a slow breath. "She hates me."

"She doesn't hate you." Clary grabbed him by the hand and dragged him into her room, closing the door behind them. "She just hates that I'm here. You know how hard she fought to keep me from this life."

"And I represent everything she hated. I was even raised by Valentine, the main person she tried to get away from."

She pulled him to the bed and sat. Raising her hands to his face, she rubbed her thumbs across his cheeks. "She doesn't know you, Jace. If she did, she'd know you're nothing like Valentine."

He reached up, removed her hands from his face, and looked down at the floor. He still didn't believe that, Clary realized. She also knew that no matter what she said, Jace was too stubborn to listen to her. At least while he was in this mood.

She flopped back onto the bed and sighed. "So, Simon got home all right?"

Jace lay back beside her. "Yeah. Nothing out of the ordinary."

Clary flipped over to her side so she could face him. She propped herself up on one elbow and raised her hand to his chest. "You know, Mom just said Luke was called away for some sort of attack on some of his pack. Do you think the attacks could be related?" She began tracing circles on his stomach.

He turned to face her, his brows furrowed. "What kind of attack?"

"She didn't know, but she said Luke told her it was unlike any demon attack they'd ever seen."

He rose up and rested back on his elbows. "That seems like too much of a coincidence after what happened with Simon." He turned to her. "Did you say anything to your mom, you know, about Simon?"

"No. Should I have?"

He shook his head. "No. It may not be connected at all." He sat up and started to stand. "I should go talk to Alec."

Clary grabbed his arm before he stood. "Wait. Now?"

He met her gaze. "Yeah. The sooner we can figure this out, the better for Simon."

She sighed and dropped her arm. "Okay."

He reached out and ran his fingers along her jaw. "I'll see you in the morning." Leaning in, he pressed his lips to hers. She twisted her hands into his shirt, trying to hold him there longer, but he pulled away too soon regardless. "Hand to hand combat, bright and early." He stood and flashed a crooked grin. "Don't be late."

Clary forced a smile. "I'll be there."

As he closed the door behind him, Clary flopped back onto her bed, frustrated. All she wanted was a little time with Jace. A little time with no mention of demons, training, or anything that had to do with Shadowhunters. She understood, she really did, but was it too much to ask to have him all to herself every once and awhile? Their relationship had never been easy, but now that things should have been less complicated, they didn't seem any different. Something always got in the way. It was almost as if he didn't see her the way he used to. Like all she was now was a trainee, not his girlfriend. But she wasn't just a trainee, and she was determined to make him see that.

With purpose, she jumped to her feet and flew out the door. Before she knew it, she was pounding on a door down the hall. It swung open to reveal a scarcely dressed Isabelle. Her brows raised in surprise. "Clary?"

Clary barged in past her. "Izzy, I need your help."

Isabelle smiled and rubbed her hands together. "I wondered when you'd finally cave." She kicked the door shut behind her.


	3. Chapter 3

****The characters of The Mortal Instruments are owned by Cassandra Clare. The original content, ideas and intellectual property of this story are owned by ddpjclaf, 2009. Please do not copy, reproduce, or translate without express written permission.****

_No citrus warning needed, but things are going to get a little heated._

* * *

"By the Angel," Clary whispered as she twirled in front of the full length mirror on her closet door. She began to wonder if going to Isabelle had been the best idea.

"That boy just needs a wakeup call," Isabelle had said.

"And these are going to do that?" Clary asked, unconvinced as she held up the tight pair of black yoga pants. "Isabelle, these are never going to fit me. The front is only like three inches tall."

Isabelle rolled her eyes. "That's the point." She rummaged through a shopping bag she'd hid in her closet and pulled out a lacey black thong—which to Clary looked more like ribbon than underwear. "Here," she tossed them to Clary, "wear these underneath."

Clary caught them and hooked her thumbs in the sides, holding them out in front of her. "You've got to be kidding me."

"What? You can't wear your normal underwear under those pants."

"But—these?" Clary held up the non-underwear.

Isabelle sighed and made her way over to sit on the bed next to Clary. "Look. I know Jace. When his mind is on training or fighting or whatever, that's where it is. He obsesses over it, that's why he's so good. But this," she held up the black lace and tight pants, "is bound to get his attention, and that's all you need. Just a moment of distraction. It'll snap him right out of this obsessive haze—trust me."

"I'm not looking to seduce him, Izzy. I just want him to act normal. To act like my boyfriend—at least sometimes."

"Honey, this _is_ normal for Jace. Trust me, it's gonna work."

Clary grimaced at her reflection. The black pants clung to her behind and tapered down her legs in a sexy, yet functional cut. They hung so low that almost her whole pelvic bone lay bared. She wasn't used to wearing thong type underwear, but was pleasantly surprised by how comfortable they actually felt. Isabelle suggested foregoing her normal tank top and only wearing a matching black sports bra. She felt a little stupid but if this was what it took—she had to at least try.

Jace preferred her hair down, but for the purposes of training, she knew that was impractical. In an effort to compromise, she'd gathered her long red locks and twisted them up, attaching them with a flat clip that wouldn't get in the way, and then let the ends fall down over top of it. Long strands hung free at her temples and the nape of her neck.

Taking a deep breath, she turned to the door and made her way down the hall toward the training room. Isabelle's door was open as she passed.

"Hold it!" She heard Isabelle's voice call from inside the room just before she appeared at the door. A huge smile stretched across her face. "Oh, he's gonna die. Seriously. It's perfect."

"Really? You don't think it's too much? I mean—you know?" Clary fiddled with the waistband of her pants and then the curls hanging from her head.

"Are you kidding me? He's probably going to pass out from the inability to breath. God, I wish I could see the look on his face—"

"Don't you dare!"

Isabelle waved her hand in front of her. "Like I really would! I _know_ I don't want to see anything that may occur as a result of my genius." She grinned.

Clary let out a deep breath. "Okay. I better go."

"You better tell me everything!"

"Everything?"

Isabelle scrunched her nose. "Okay, maybe not_ everything_."

Clary smirked as she turned and made her way to the training room door. She took another deep breath and held it as she twisted the knob and walked inside. Jace wasn't there yet so she took the opportunity to stretch out a bit before they began. She couldn't believe how nervous she felt. It wasn't like she didn't see Jace every single day, but today things felt different. She knew she was taking an important step and it scared her more than anything she'd ever done before. More than when she'd seen her first demon, more than when she'd faced Valentine. This was where she really put herself on the line, her heart, her body, everything.

She bent her neck from side to side, stretching out the tight muscles there. She jogged in place for a minute, stretched her arms above her head and then bent over, touching her hands to her toes. It was when she was in this position, her back to the enterance and her butt stuck up in the air, that she heard the click of the door opening and a sharp intake of breath. She smiled to herself and straightened up. She fought herself for composure as she held her breath and turned slowly around. Her chest clenched when she spied Alec and not Jace standing at the door, his eyes wide and his mouth slack. She immediately wished she had a towel or possibly even a large blanket to throw over herself.

"Alec? Where's Jace?" She felt heat rise from her chest and swim in her cheeks.

"He, uh, he asked me to fill in for him. He said he had a few things to do."

Clary's embarrassment quickly faded only to be replaced by rage. "He—what?" She felt her anger replacing the blood in her veins and trailing every inch of her body. _He passed me off?_

Alec fidgeted near the door. "He said he'd be back soon and he'd pick up with your afternoon training."

Without thinking, Clary snatched her face towel from the floor and stomped toward the door.

"Wait. Where are you going? What about hand to hand combat training?"

Clary stopped and glared at Alec. His blue eyes showed fear, but she knew it wasn't for himself. "Oh, don't worry. I won't be missing any training." She pushed past him into the hall. Her pace didn't slow until she reached the door to Jace's room. She didn't bother to knock since she knew he wasn't there, but she wanted to be sure she was the first thing he saw when he returned. Twisting the knob, she threw open the door to his very plain, very neat bedroom, slamming it shut behind her.

She paced back and forth in front of his bed, not really knowing why she was so angry. Sure, she had the right to be a little miffed, maybe even upset, but she was seething. It just felt so much like he was pushing her away and she wanted to know why. Had she done something? Did he not feel the same about her anymore?

She didn't know how long she'd paced there before she heard the jiggle of the knob. Her anger, seeping from her body like molten lava, gave her the strength to stand there, her hands on her hips and her eyes right on the entrance. He opened the door and entered the room, his head down so he didn't see her right away. When he raised his gaze and saw her standing there, his eyes widened and his mouth fell open in shock.

"Holy—" His golden gaze traveled her body as if he'd never laid eyes on her before.

Clary ripped her eyes away from him—even though she wanted nothing more than to stare into his beautiful face—and glanced at the clock. "Bright and early, huh Jace? That's what you said right? Bright and early?" She turned back to him, his expression hadn't changed. "What the hell? You said you'd be there. I was waiting for _you_, but you sent Alec? Are you trying to blow me off? Is that what this is? Because that's what it feels like."

"Clary—" He was nearly speechless. "What are you wearing?"

"What—what am I wearing? Is that all you have to say? What am I wearing?" She crossed her arms over her chest, slightly pleased that he'd noticed her outfit but so much more angry that it pretty much overshadowed every other thought. "You didn't answer my question. Are you deliberately trying to blow me off?"

He frowned. "Blowing you off? Why would you think that? We're together every day, Clary."

She uncrossed her arms and took a step forward, her fists shaking. "Is that what you call being together? You throwing me around the mat for a few hours a day? Coming to my room for five whole minutes, giving me a little peck on the cheek and saying good night? Is that what 'being together' is to you, Jace?"

"Clary, you know that's not—"

She raised her brows, her voice growing higher. "I know? I _know_? How exactly am I supposed to know anything anymore?" She took another step forward, stretched her arm out and pointed at him. "How are you showing me anything lately? I'm sick of you ignoring me other than to train. I'm sick of you treating me like everyone else. I'm not everyone else, Jace. I'm not." She found herself standing directly in front of him, her finger to his chest and his back flush against the door. "Why do you keep doing this? Why do you keep pushing me away and treating me like I'm nothing special?"

"I'm not—"

Clary stomped her foot. She actually stomped her foot like a child. "Yes, you are! Everyone sees it, why can't you? Why can't you see what you're doing to me?" She placed her hands on his chest and pushed him hard against the door.

"Clary, what are you doing?" A flash of anger shot through his eyes. Good, it was about time he showed some sort of emotion with her.

Clary pushed him again. "All you want from me is to fight, so come on." She shoved him once more. "Come on, Jace."

"Don't be stupid, I'm not going to fight you."

"Why not? It's all we do anymore anyway. If I want to see you, this is what I have to do right?" She hit him in the arm. "All I want is to spend time with you. For you to look at me like you used to, but all you can see is training and fighting. So if that's all I get then that's what I'll do." She slapped him again.

"I'm not doing this, Clary."

"God, Jace! You're so damn stubborn!" She raised both of her fists and readied herself to bury them in his chest when she felt his hands wrap around her wrists and her back slam against something hard.

Jace's body pressed into her, keeping her tight against the door, his fingers still circling her wrists and holding them against wall next to her head.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice low and gravelly.

She stared into his eyes and saw not only anger but excitement as well. In that moment, her anger melted away, warmth and need taking its place. "Jace," she whispered.

He released her arms and grabbed her face, crushing his lips to hers. Clary reached up and grabbed two fistfuls of his hair, pulling him tighter to her. She pressed her body as close as she could, fitting her tiny frame right to him. His arms wrapped around her, holding her so tight she could barely breathe. An overwhelming urge came over her to feel his skin against hers. She untangled her hands from his hair and clawed at his shirt, trying to pull it up. Jace took no time at all to get the message and reached to his collar. With one hand, he pulled it over his head and threw it to the corner of the room.

Clary ran her hands along his shoulders and down his chest, touching every inch of his bare skin. She traced her fingertips along the scars of old runes, knowing that each one had in some way protected him. Thankful for every one, she lowered her lips to his chest and lightly kissed each that lay just below his collarbone. With a groan, he bent and tucked his arms under her behind and lifted her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist as her lips met his again. He turned around and carried her to the bed, dropping her roughly to the soft mattress. Standing next to the bed, he stared down at her, a fire in his eyes she'd never seen before. Feeling that same flame burning in her, she reached forward and grasped the belt of jeans, pulling him back on top of her.

She wrapped her legs back around his waist, not able to fit herself close enough to him. His lips trailed along her jaw to her ear.

"Clary." His breath tickled her, causing a massive shiver to shake her body. "Where the hell did you get these clothes?"

She let out a breathy laugh. "Why, don't you like them?"

He continued to brush his lips down her neck and along her collarbone. "Does it feel like I don't like them?"

"Um, no, not really." She shuddered again under his kiss. "Is—Isabelle."

"I should have known."

"Jace?"

"Hmm?" he asked against her neck as he continued to cover her skin with kisses. His fingers traced along the strap of her bra, every once and awhile he'd slip underneath the edge, touching skin that was so close to the forbidden.

"Don't stop."

He chuckled, his breath raising gooseflesh on her skin. "I'm not planning on it."

"No, I mean it. Don't stop. At all."

His body tensed and he raised himself up, meeting her eyes. "What?"

Clary raised her hands to his face and traced her fingers along his cheek bones. "You heard me."

"Don't say that unless you mean it, Clary."

She reached down and undid the buckle on his belt, pulling it through the loops of his jeans and throwing it to the same corner he'd tossed his shirt. "Does it feel like I mean it?"

Clary saw him swallow hard. "Clary, I don't know—"

She raised a finger to his lips, cutting off what he wanted to say. "Don't think too hard, Jace."

"But, Clary—"

"Do you love me?"

A line formed between his brows. "Of course, you know I do."

"Say it."

His gaze moved between Clary's eyes, studying one and then the other, almost as if he were looking for the truth behind her words. "I love you."

"Then show me. And let me show you. I want to show you, Jace." She reached up and ran her hand through his golden curls then trailed her fingers down the line of his face from his temple to his chin. "I love you. I just want to be with you. Will you let me be with you? Please?"

He raised his hand to her face and cupped her cheek. "You're the best thing in my life, do you know that? If I lost you—"

Clary raised herself up on her elbows so her face was only millimeters from his. "I'm not going anywhere. I promise." She closed the distance between them and brushed her lips against his.

His arms snaked around her back and raised her to a seated position. The feel of his fingers against her flesh sent shivers racing up her spine. His hands were careful and gentle as he touched her. Even though they were scarred and calloused from years of fighting, they felt better than anything Clary had ever experienced in her life. She pulled away just slightly and stared into his eyes. She wanted to see the look on his face when she showed herself to him for the first time. Crossing her arms in front of her and fingering the bottom of her bra, she pulled it over her head, her eyes never leaving Jace's. He didn't move, not a single muscle.

"Look at me, Jace," she whispered.

He took in a shaking breath and lowered his eyes for a few seconds before raising them to hers again. "Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?"

She smiled and flung herself forward, pulling him flush against her. One of his arms wrapped around her waist while the other trailed up her back and his fingers clasped around the back of her neck. Their lips moved together, their kisses growing deeper as they clung to each other. Not a single thing about this felt wrong to Clary. She knew she and Jace belonged together, she'd known almost from the first moment she'd seen him. Nothing in the world could stop what was about to happen—

"Jace, have you seen—oh my God!" Isabelle's voice came from the open door.

"Izzy!" Jace threw himself and Clary down onto the bed, his body shielding hers from Isabelle's wide eyes. He clawed at the comforter and tucked it around Clary's body. "What the hell? You ever heard of knocking?"

Isabelle's hands flew to her eyes. "Haven't you ever heard of a lock? By the Angel Jace!" She peeked through her fingers. "Could you at least put on a shirt?"

"It's my room; I don't have to put on a shirt. What do you want?" He crossed his arms over his chest and then sighed. "You can uncover your eyes, everyone's decent."

Isabelle slowly lowered her hands. "Sorry, I didn't mean to—interrupt." She grimaced. "But, Clary's mom and Luke are on their way up."

"What?" Clary bolted up, the comforter still wrapped around her. "Why?"

"I don't know. They called Mom and said they were on their way. I heard the elevator go down just a little bit ago."

"Crap! Thanks, Izzy." Clary scrambled to her feet, holding the comforter tightly around her, her eyes searching the room. "Jace, where's my bra?"

"Oh God!" Isabelle slapped her hands back over her eyes once again and hurried out into the hall, clutching at the door knob as she left.


	4. Chapter 4

****The characters of The Mortal Instruments are owned by Cassandra Clare. The original content, ideas and intellectual property of this story are owned by ddpjclaf, 2009. Please do not copy, reproduce, or translate without express written permission.****

* * *

Knowing she couldn't show herself in her current state, Clary rushed to her room, throwing a long oversized t-shirt over her bra, hiding the scarceness of her pants. She'd have to remember to thank Isabelle later. The outfit had worked perfectly. Glancing in the mirror, she gasped at the atrocity that was her hair. She pulled the clip out and ran a brush through it, tying it into a ponytail at the nape of her neck. Satisfied that she looked half-ways decent and not at all like she'd just come from a serious make-out session, she hurried out the door.

Jace waited outside the door, holding out his hand to her as she came out. She entwined her fingers with his and peered up at him. His eyes hadn't lost the gleam they'd held before and a faint flush colored his cheeks. She smiled to herself knowing she'd caused both.

"What are you grinning at?" he asked.

"What do you think?"

He pulled her to a stop, placing his hands on her hips. "Look, I wanted to say I'm sorry—again. There is no good excuse for how I've acted. I just get so—I don't know, caught up in training. Before you, it was my whole life. Training, studying and fighting. That's all there's ever been for me."

"Don't you think I understand that, Jace? I just wish you could see that that's not all there is anymore. You have all of us. Maryse and Robert love you as a son. Isabelle and Alec love you as a brother. And I—well, there just aren't really words to describe how I feel about you. Try and remember that, okay?"

Clary jumped at the feeling of something curling around her feet. "Church!"

Jace laughed and bent down to scratch the cat's head. He glanced up at Clary, his eyes conveying that he'd gotten the message. "They probably sent him to look for us. Pretty soon they'll release the blood hounds. You know how impatient Maryse gets." He stood and wrapped his hand around Clary's again, pulling her toward the library doors. Voices sounded from inside.

Jace reached out and pushed against the handle. Maryse and Robert stood on one side of the large wooden desk while Luke and Jocelyn stood on the other. Alec leaned against the wall near the window and Isabelle lounged in a large chair close to Alec, her leg dangling over the side. Jocelyn's face was drawn and pale. Luke sported large, dark bags under his eyes, his face gaunt and thinner than normal.

"Jace, Clary. Nice of you to join us, finally," Maryse said, annoyance seething through her words. "What were you two doing?"

Isabelle's hand flew to her mouth in an attempt to hide her grin.

"Training." Jace pulled Clary further into the room, giving no hint to the untruth of his statement.

Maryse's eyes slid over them, immediately noticing Jace in jeans and a T-shirt and Clary in her oversized T and yoga pants—not the average attire for combat training. "You don't look like you were training."

"We changed first." His eyes challenged Maryse. "Would you have preferred us to come dripping with sweat?"

Jocelyn flinched. Clary figured the image of her daughter getting all sweaty with a boy did not sit too well with her mother. However, the impression had a very different affect on her. Isabelle had her hand clasped so hard against her mouth Clary feared she may leave a mark.

Maryse straightened up and smoothed her hands over the hips of her skirt. "No, of course not. Please, take a seat." She gestured to the loveseat next to Isabelle.

Jace and Clary made their way over to the couch and sat. Isabelle snorted and then coughed to try to cover it up.

Maryse and Robert came around to the front of the desk and stood next to Luke and Jocelyn, their eyes focused on the teenagers. "Is there anything you guys would like to tell us?" Maryse asked.

Alec's eyes grew wide, Isabelle's face drained of color and Clary gripped Jace's hand tighter. Only Jace showed no outward emotion. "Like what?" he asked.

"Like maybe about a certain vampire attack last night?" Luke asked, his voice gruff.

"Oh, that." Jace settled back into the loveseat and shrugged. "We didn't see why we should. It didn't involve us. How did you know about that?"

"Simon stopped by the book store this morning. He looked terrible," Jocelyn answered.

"And that's different from any other time how?"

Clary elbowed Jace in the side. "Is he all right?"

"Yes, he's fine," Jocelyn said. "He said he was still just a little weak from the attack. My question is why didn't you tell me last night when I was here?" Her eyes traveled between Clary and Jace.

"I didn't really think about a connection between what you told me about Luke and Simon until after you left," Clary said. "I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to hide anything."

"Is that what you called us for?" Jace asked. "To lecture us about not telling you about an attack on a few bloodsuckers? Not to be argumentative, but since when are we responsible for letting you know everything that happens when it doesn't involve us."

"Jace," Maryse warned.

Luke held up a hand. "No, it's all right Maryse. He's right." He focused on Jace and Clary. "That's not why we asked to meet with you all." Luke hesitated. "After what happened to a few members of our pack last night, and after talking with Simon this morning, we're thinking these two incidents may just be connected after all."

Jace leaned forward. "How so?"

"Simon showed me the bite mark on his arm. It left a scar."

"But that's impossible—vampires don't scar."

Luke met Jace's eyes. "No, they don't. Not unless . . ."

"Unless what?" Clary's eyes were wide.

"Unless the bite contains vampire venom. That's the only thing that will leave a scar on another vampire."

Clary shook her head. "There's no way Simon was bitten by another vampire. I saw those marks on his arm, they were way too big."

"That's what we thought at first too, until we looked closer to the attack on our pack members. We found identical bite marks, and in each indentation we found vampire venom."

"That doesn't make any sense." Alec stepped away from the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. "What you and Simon described about the attacks, there's just no way a vampire could do that. Yes, they're strong and fast, but it would be impossible for a vampire—even a group of vampires to decimate others of its kind so quickly and easily. Not to mention a group of werewolves. Did you find any evidence other than the venom in the wounds?"

Luke shook his head. "Nothing." He ran his hand through his hair. "We don't know what to make of this either. You're right. It doesn't flow with what we know about vampire attacks, that's for sure. I'm going to meet with the vampire coven leader tonight. I sent a message through Simon, requesting a face-to-face. The leader agreed."

Clary stood. "Luke, no. You can't meet with them! Even after what happened in Idris, they still don't really like werewolves."

Luke smiled. "Don't worry, Clary. Simon will be there and I'm bringing Maia. The leader has agreed to these terms and has promised no violence."

"What do you want us to do, Lucian?" Maryse asked.

"Nothing yet. We just wanted to keep you informed of the situation—just in case. And also to make sure you're protected. As of right now, it looks like only werewolves and vampires are involved. But we don't know what this thing is, not yet anyway."

"So, what? You want us to sit back and do nothing?" Jace asked.

"For now, yes. We're not really interested in involving the Clave just yet."

"We're not the Clave, Luke."

"I know that, son." Luke's eyes were gentle. "For now, we're going to try to handle this amongst ourselves. We're only here because you knew about what happened with Simon and we wanted to let you know all sides. Just in case this becomes bigger than it is now. And to ask—" Luke looked back at Jocelyn who nodded. "To ask that Clary be kept out of any hunting activities until she's had longer to train."

"What?" Clary's mouth dropped open. "You can't—"

"Fine," Jace answered without hesitation.

Clary whipped around to face him. "Jace!"

He raised his gaze to hers, his eyes hard and set in his decision. "You have my word. Not until she's trained longer."

She felt the sting of tears in her eyes and clenched her fists at her side. Turning her stare to Isabelle, she found her with her eyes to the floor. Alec was the same. She knew she hadn't been doing actual Shadowhunter training very long, but she thought she'd more than proven herself in their dealings with Valentine. She met her mother's eyes and saw the fear and determination in them. How dare she ask something like this? Wasn't it bad enough that she'd lied to her for sixteen years about what she really was and who her father really was? Not wanting to look at any of them any longer, she whipped around and bolted toward the door.

Jace went to stand, but Isabelle beat him to it and held her hand out to him. "You stay." She narrowed her eyes. "I'll go."

Clary made it to her room in record time and flung herself down on the bed. She heard her door open and felt a soft hand on her back, but she didn't bother to look up to see who it was. She already knew.

"Clary, don't be upset. There's nothing wrong with training longer before going out. It's probably better that way."

"If that's your idea of cheering me up then you're way off."

Isabelle sighed. "Come on, Clary. None of us got to go out before we were properly trained."

Clary flipped over and stared up at Isabelle. "Yeah, but you've had your whole lives to get ready for this. I've had what? A month? And how much have I done in that time? I think a lot. I understand, Izzy. Really I do. It just makes me feel totally useless. You can't imagine how it'll feel for me to sit here while you go out there and risk yourselves. And Jace—" Her breath caught at the mention of his name.

Before their trip to Idris, before she'd watched him die at Valentine's hand, she'd never been this afraid for him. Every time they went out hunting, even when she was there, she feared she'd watch him die again. Whenever she closed her eyes, she saw the mortal sword pierce through his heart. She saw Valentine cradle his limp body as the light faded from his eyes. She saw his face, pale and lifeless as the moon reflected onto it from the smooth surface of Lake Lyn. Nothing could ever erase those memories, or the grief that had burned into her soul in that moment.

Isabelle's eyes softened as if she knew exactly what Clary was thinking. "Listen to me. Jace is the best of us—and if you ever tell him I said that I'll string you up with my whip." Her eyes were deadly serious. "You don't need to worry about him. I know you still will, but I'm just telling you that you don't need to. If anyone can take care of themselves, it's him. Plus, Alec and I will be there. We won't let anything happen to him, Clary."

"But, Izzy, I've already seen him die once. If I hadn't been there he'd be—he'd be—" She closed her eyes and forced the memory out of her head. "I know I can be useful. I know enough."

"Nobody is saying you're not. We know you are. It's just that your mom, Jace, everyone—we just want you to be the most prepared as you can before sending you out. That's all."

Clary closed her eyes and nodded. There was nothing else she could do. They were determined to keep her out of the fight. She might have been able to persuade Isabelle, and maybe even Alec, but not Jace. Once he made up his mind, that was it. When she opened her eyes again, Isabelle was studying her curiously. "What?"

Isabelle pursed her lips.

"Izzy, what?" Clary raised herself up on her elbows.

Isabelle narrowed her eyes and bit her lower lip. "Don't you have something you'd like to say to me?"

"What are you talking about?"

Isabelle's eyes traveled down to Clary's pants and then back up to her eyes.

Clary's face flared. "Oh. That."

"So?"

"So what? You saw pretty much everything."

"And thanks so much for that. That was more of both of you than I ever wanted to see."

"Come on, you've seen Jace without a shirt before and just the other day you saw me only in my underwear."

Isabelle made a disgusted face. "Yeah, but not like _that_."

Clary laughed. "Well, maybe you'll knock next time." She caught Isabelle's eye. "Thanks for helping me, Iz."

"No problem," Isabelle said with a smile. "Anything else I can do for you?"

"Actually, yeah."

"I wasn't being literal."

"Oh." Clary paused. "Will you anyway?"

Isabelle sighed dramatically. "Fine. What?"

"I don't want to see my mom right now, but . . ."

"You want Jace?"

"Yeah." Her cheeks burned. "Will you get him?"

"I suppose." Isabelle smiled and started toward the door before turning. "So, after our experiment today—does that mean you'll let me choose your clothing from now on?"

"Don't press your luck."

"But didn't you enjoy the perks?"

"Isabelle!"

"Okay, okay, I'm going." She whipped around, her shiny dark hair trailing along behind her like a sheet of silk. Just before she closed the door she said, "Jace is really lucky, Clary. I hope he knows that."

When the door clicked, Clary let out a slow breath and stared up at the ceiling. She wished she had enough experience and training to be able to keep up with them all. She hated being left behind and she really hated the thought of not being there with Jace. What if something happened and she wasn't there? Not that she thought she could prevent it, but she had saved him by the lake. If she hadn't been there, he wouldn't be here. They wouldn't be together.

She heard a soft knock on the door. "Come in, Jace."

The door opened and he walked in, his eyes cautious like a little boy who thought he was about to get in trouble. "Clary, I—"

Clary held a finger to her lips. She slid over and patted the bed next to her. Jace furrowed his brows but walked over and lay down next to her anyway. She reached over and took his hand, flipped onto her side, and drew his arm over her. All she wanted right then was for him to hold her. No words, no action, no nothing. She wanted nothing but his arms around her. That was all she needed. She laced her fingers through his and snuggled into him. With his other hand, he moved the hair away from her neck and placed a small kiss just behind her ear. Clary closed her eyes and smiled as he tightened his embrace and held her against him. She wished the rest of the world away, not wanting anything to interrupt that perfect moment. It was just them, their quiet breathing and beating hearts the only sound. And for now, that was all that mattered.

###

The water stood as still as glass. Moonlight reflecting off the mirrored surface cast bent blue shadows across the sand. He stared out at her from the middle of the lake, his golden wings moving slowly enabling him to hover just above the surface. Golden runes danced across his skin, never slowing in pace. His eyes bore down on her, all of them, even the golden ones centered in each of his feathers.

_What is it you want Clarissa Morgenstern? _He'd asked without moving his lips.

This time she didn't consider all the things she could ask for. All the ways she could better humanity with, bring peace, love, and security to everyone on earth. None of that crossed her mind, not even for an instant. The only things in her mind were his words, the ones he'd spoken the night before he left to face Valentine. The night he'd bared his soul to her. The night he'd lowered every wall and left his heart exposed and vulnerable in front of her.

_I love you, and I will love you until I die, and if there's a life after that, I'll love you then._

He was the right choice, the only choice. It was the choice she would continue to make over and over again until she took her last breath. And with that breath, she would choose him one last time.

_What is it you desire, Clarissa Morgenstern?_

"Jace," she whispered. "Always Jace."

_Close your eyes, Clarissa._

She did.

_Clary. Open your eyes._ A voice called out from the haze. It sounded far away, so far. She wanted it closer. She wanted him closer. _Clary. Wake up. _The voice was getting louder and closer, almost as if it were right there next to her.

"Clary. Open your eyes," Jace's voice reached through the veil and pulled her out from under the depths of slumber.

She opened her eyes and blinked a few times, trying to remove the fog of sleep. Her room was dark, only a thin shaft of light from the streetlamp outside offered any illumination. The details of her dream faded away the longer her eyes were open, but left her feeling hollow and aching. "Jace?" She reached out and found his hand. He sat at the edge of her bed. He looked different, but her hazy mind could not register how. "I fell asleep? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

"It's all right." He brushed the hair from her face. "I amused myself with your incessant screaming of my name in your dreams. What was I doing to you anyway? It sounded pleasurable. I'd like to take notes for later."

She smiled. "Liar." Reaching up, she rubbed her eyes. When she lowered her hands, she realized, finally, what seemed different about him. He was dressed in his Shadowhunter gear, except for the top which he held in his hand. Clary sat up. "Are you going out?" Fear squeezed her heart in her chest.

His eyes met hers, and in the dim light they looked almost silver instead of gold. "Yeah. A few Vanknor demons. Not a big deal. Should be in and out in no time."

"Oh." Clary looked down.

Jace leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead. "I didn't want to go without letting you know."

She looked up at him and tried to smile. "Thanks."

"I better go, though. Alec is supposed to mark me before we leave."

"Why don't you let me do that? It would make me feel at least a little useful."

"You sure?" His eyes never left hers.

She nodded and held out her hand. He reached down to the loop in his belt and pulled out his stele, slipping it into her hand.

"Where do you want them?"

"Back and shoulders should be good."

"Okay. Take off your shirt."

He reached back and grabbed his shirt by the collar, pulling it over his head just as he had that afternoon. Clary ran her hand gently across the top of his back right where she would place the runes that would help protect him. She started at his left shoulder, placing the stele against his skin, and with just the right amount of pressure began to draw the lines and curves. As she finished each, she brushed her lips against them, asking them silently to do their job and bring him back unharmed.

"What are the kisses for?" he asked, his voice quiet.

"Sealing things with a kiss makes them more powerful. Didn't you know that?"

Jace didn't respond, but she thought she'd heard his breath hitch.

Clary finished the runes in silence. After she made the last mark, she handed the stele back to him. When he took it, she closed her eyes, rested her hands against the front of his shoulders, and laid her forehead against the back of his neck. She brushed her lips against him and breathed in deep, taking in every sensation—the rough lines of the scars on his skin, the warmth that radiated off from his body and soaked into hers, the scent of soap and sunshine that rolled off from him, filling her with all things Jace. "I wish I was going with you," she whispered into his skin.

"Enjoy it while it lasts. Soon enough we'll be dragging you out with us every night and you'll come back sticky and coated with demon guts, too."

Clary didn't speak. She just kept her forehead against him, concentrating on his nearness.

"Clary, are you all right?"

"Sure. Why?"

"Well, you're really quiet and I'm kind of starting to feel like I have something attached to my back."

She sighed and slid her hands down his arms. "You're such a mood spoiler. I was just enjoying being close to you. Is that a crime?"

"I'll be back in a little while. Then you can bury your face in me all you want."

"Promise?"

He turned and ran his fingers across her cheek. "I promise." Leaning forward, he placed a small kiss on her waiting lips.

Clary watched as he stood and pulled his T-shirt over his head followed by the rest of his gear. She bit her lip as she stared at him.

"What?" he asked.

She twisted her lips to the side before answering. "You know, I never really noticed before but—you look seriously sexy in that."

"You lie." He grinned. "I know you've noticed. It's hard not to."

She smiled. "You're such an arrogant ass."

He leaned down, his hands splayed against the bedspread on either side of her and his face hovering just inches in front of hers. "Yeah, but a sexy arrogant ass, right?"

She rolled her eyes. "Are there no bounds to your conceitedness?"

He smiled. "Nope." Closing the distance between them, he kissed her again.

"Tell you what," she said as she drew her lower lip between her teeth. "If you don't get too much blood on that gear, I'll help you take it off later."

He raised one brow. "It's a deal." He leaned in for one last kiss before rising and heading toward the door. His hair shone metallic in the glow of the artificial light coming through the window. He turned back and grinned. "I'm going to hold you to that, you know."

She smiled. "Oh, I'm counting on it."


	5. Chapter 5

****The characters of The Mortal Instruments are owned by Cassandra Clare. The original content, ideas and intellectual property of this story are owned by ddpjclaf, 2009. Please do not copy, reproduce, or translate without express written permission.****

* * *

After the door clicked shut behind him, Jace leaned against it, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. Never before had he felt anything resembling fear when hunting. Usually, it excited him. He loved the feeling of his seraph blade slicing through the demons flesh, the sound of its screams as his blade dug deeper, and the smell of its blood spilling at his hand. He never feared pain or even death. He'd accepted the fact long ago that he would not live a long life. That just wasn't the way of a Shadowhunter. And he'd been okay with that. It wasn't like he'd had anything to live for anyway. Until her.

Ever since she'd walked into his life, he wanted to live. If only to see her face one more time, to feel her arms around him, to hear the sound of her voice whispering his name. The way she'd clung to him in there, like it may be the last time she'd ever see him, filled him with a longing so strong he almost turned around and marched back in, smothered himself in her embrace and lived blissfully with her in that room for the rest of eternity. More than anything, he wanted to.

The sound of Isabelle's laughter from further up the hall snapped him out of his thoughts. He straightened up, fixed his expression into that of a fearless, kill-hungry Shadowhunter, and sauntered toward them.

When Alec spied him he asked, "Hey, are you all marked up? I waited for you but gave up when you didn't show."

Jace nodded. "Clary did it for me." His shoulders still burned from the lines the stele etched into his skin. But it was a burn he liked—though not as much as he'd liked the feeling of her soft lips brushing against his stinging skin afterward.

"I figured." Alec moved his gaze to the elevator door.

The elevator came to a halt and the doors slid open. As they got in and started to descend, Isabelle turned to Jace, her eyes very serious. "Listen, could you do me a favor tonight?"

"Depends on what the favor is. Yes, I will kill any demons that try to gore you to death. No, I will not rub your feet afterward."

She narrowed her eyes. "Don't act like an idiot out there. It's not all about you and your wild fantasies of being the best Shadowhunter on earth anymore. I promised your girlfriend we'd get you back safe, but I can't compete with your insane death wishes."

"Well, then you're in luck. I don't wish to die tonight. I've got a hot date later."

"Ugh. Thank you so much for the mental image."

"I can't help what your dirty little mind conjures up."

"I don't need to 'conjure' anything. I saw it with my own two eyes." She grimaced. "I think my brain is still bleeding."

Jace smiled. "No one asked you to come barging into my room and no one asked you to give her those pants—which I've been meaning to thank you for by the way. Excellent choice."

"Yes, I figured you'd like those you pervert."

When they reached the bottom, they spilled into the entry and made their way out the doors. The moon was absent from the sky, not that it mattered with all the lights of the city anyway. Jace felt eyes on his back and knew she was watching as they walked away. He fought the urge to turn around and find her pale face in the window above. Seeing her there would make leaving all that much harder, and he just wanted to get this over with.

They crossed the street, unsuspecting mundanes passing by completely unaware of the weapon laden teenagers. Luckily, the spot they were going wasn't too far from the Institute, just several blocks away. They ran, unheeded through the mingling civilians. When they reached the alley, Jace realized immediately that the intelligence on what they were to face was off. He smelled the unmistakable scent of demon, a mixture of blood and garbage, but the alley looked deserted and in perfect alley order. Vanknor demons were messy. Their bodies dripped sulfuric yellow slime which, if any were present, should have coated the walls and ground of the alleyway. Only evidence of human filth showed.

Alec stepped up beside him, surveying the area and coming to the same conclusion. "This isn't right."

"Where are they?" Isabelle asked.

Jace shook his head. "I don't know. I smell them but—come on." He waved them forward and they set off cautiously down the dark lane. Jace's hand fell to his side and his fingers wrapped around the seraph blade strapped to his hip. He pulled it out and named it, _Machidiel. _The blade sprang to life providing a beam of blue light. He took a few more steps forward before he felt a nudge at his back and frigid breath at his neck.

"Back off Isabelle. I'm not going to do anything reckless so quit breathing down my neck."

"What are you talking about?" Her voice came from the other side of Alec.

Jace froze, as a low snarl sounded behind him. He swore under his breath and whipped around. Towering above him at a good nine feet, the demon hissed through a reptilian snout. Its green double forked tongue flicked out toward them as it stood up onto back claws the size of trash can lids. Black fluid dripped from its mouth and covered its long insect-like body. Spikes protruded from its head and followed its spine, ending in a ball at its tail. Eyes as black as coal stared straight into Jace as it curled its lip back revealing jagged, sharp teeth. It shook its head, spikes clanking against each other as it reared back preparing to lunge.

"Hell. Vanknor demons, Alec? Really?"

"What? That was the tip!" Alec said.

The creature swung its tail out, barely missing Jace. He swore again as he jumped up, grabbed a pole above his head that jutted out of the building and flung himself onto the dumpster behind him. "Watch the spikes! They're poisonous."

Isabelle flicked her whip out, catching another pole and swinging herself further down the alley as the tail made its way toward her. Alec turned and ran to give himself more distance and pulled his bow from his back. He reached back and grabbed an arrow, fit it into the bow and turned, releasing it into the demon's chest. The creature flinched back on its heels and roared into the sky. Isabelle's whip lashed out, leaving an angry slash along the creature's neck. When it turned its attention on her, Jace lunged forward with his blade, slicing clean through the demon's side. Black ichor poured out, pooling to the ground at its feet. Alec shot a few more arrows, each embedding themselves into the demon's chest.

With another roar the creature, swung its claw forward, catching Isabelle and flinging her into the air. With a smack, she hit the wall and slid down the bricks into a heap on the ground. Jace reached to his belt, pulling out a dagger and flung it toward the demon. It struck the creature in the neck, a spray of black blood spurted out upon impact. He jumped off the dumpster and ran to guard Izzy as Alec applied an _iratze_ to her wrist.

Jace squared off in front of the demon. It shook its head like a lion and snarled. Blood from the creature's wounds ran in streams through the grime and filth of the alley, emptying into a sewer drain near its feet. Its eyes drooped and Jace knew it was weakening from the loss of blood. He pictured his blade slicing through the tendons and arteries in the demon's neck, its head falling and rolling on the ground. His lips twisted into a grin as the familiar lust of the kill surged through his veins. The demon reared back and Jace crouched. Just as he was about to spring, he heard it.

"Clarissa!" A voice rang out at the opening of the alley.

Jace's smile faltered and for a split second he lost his focus. The demon, taking advantage of Jace's moment of instability, lashed out with its tail, embedding a long poisonous spike into his side. Pain spliced through him as the boney protrusion pierced him, ripped through his flesh and lodged itself under his rib. Hot, sticky liquid flowed from the gash, soaking through his pants and running to the ground. Alternating sensations of heat and cold pulsed at the site. With the last bit of his strength, he swung his blade down, cutting clean through the creature's tail abd separating it from the ball of spikes in his side.

"Jace!" Isabelle's voice called out as Jace stood, his hand to his side, blood pouring over his pale fingers.

His knees weakened and he fell to them, kneeling in a pool of his own blood.

Isabelle flicked her whip out once more, managing to wrap it around the creature's neck. She pulled as hard as she could while Alec continued to pummel the demon with arrows. The tendon's in the demon's neck gave way, and with one more hard jerk, its head tore free and fell to the ground beside its body. Almost immediately, it began folding in on itself until nothing remained except a few scuff marks in the dust.

###

Alec was already at Jace's side when Isabelle wrapped her whip around her arm and ran to them. Alec pulled the spike from Jace's flesh and frantically tried to apply an _iratze_ to his body. But they both knew that wouldn't work against demon poison. Jace's face was deathly pale, his eyes rolling back as if he were about to pass out. Blood continued to flow from him like a waterfall into the already large sea of red at his feet.

"Alec, we have to stop the bleeding!"

"I—I can't, Izzy! It's coming too fast!" Alec said, pressing Jace's side but the blood just kept flowing, covering his hands and soaking into his own gear.

"Alec, take off your shirt." Isabelle uncoiled her whip from her arm.

Alec didn't question her and stripped off his gear, then the white t-shirt he wore underneath. He removed Jace's hand from his own side and pressed the shirt against the gash. Instantly, a plume of red spread against the stark white.

Isabelle took her whip and wrapped it tight around Jace's abdomen. "We have to get him back to the Institute, now. And we need Magnus."

Alec nodded, grabbed one of Jace's arms and flung it over his shoulder. Isabelle mimicked his gesture on the other side and they took off down the alley, dragging Jace between them.

###

Clary lay on her bed staring up at the ceiling wondering when the others would be back. It seemed like forever since they'd left and Jace had said this should be an easy kill. Of course, he always thought that. When it came to demons, nothing seemed to faze him.

The rattle of the elevator brought a smile to Clary's face. Finally, they'd returned. She sat up and was about to stand when she heard Isabelle's frantic voice screaming from outside in the hall.

"Mom! Dad! Please, we need help!"

Clary flew out of bed, threw open the door and ran into the hall. Her heart slammed to a stop as her eyes settled on the three Shadowhunters at the end of the hall. Alec's hands were covered in blood, his knees shaking in exhaustion, as were Izzy's. Jace hung between them, his head down and his legs limp below him. A bright red piece of fabric was secured to his side by Isabelle's whip and drips of blood fell from it to the floor below him.

Without another moments thought, Clary ran toward them, reaching them just as Isabelle's legs gave out under her. Clary fell to her knees and caught Jace just under his arms as Alec's grip on him slipped as well.

"Jace!" she screamed his name. He didn't respond. "Oh my God, Jace!" She buried her face in his hair as she laid his head against her chest. She could feel him breathing but it was labored and fast.

"We have to get him to the infirmary," Alec said, his voice sounded completely exhausted. "Magnus will be here any minute."

Just then, Robert and Maryse flew into the hallway and made it to them in seconds.

"By the Angel, Alec, what happened?" Maryse asked.

"Vampart demon. Got Jace with its tail. I've already called Magnus."

Maryse gasped. "Robert, get him to the infirmary now!"

Mr. Lightwood scooped Jace's limp form up into his arms and ran down the hall, barreling through the make-shift hospital doors. Clary followed, tears streaming down her cheeks, making it almost impossible to see.

By the time she made it into the room, Robert already had Jace laid out on the small bed. Clary walked up to him and peered down at his face. His eyes were closed and his skin, a sick shade of gray, glistened with a thin sheen of sweat. He looked like he was asleep. She'd never seen him so pale. His skin was almost translucent and she could see every little blue vein as they struggled to pump the tiny bit of blood left in his body. The artery in his neck bulged and contracted furiously.

She held back a moan as she ran her fingers through his hair and leaned down, burying her face next to his ear. "Please. Please be all right. I can't be without you. Please, Jace." Her body shook with sobs. She wrapped her other arm around his chest and held him as tight as she dared. She didn't even hear when the others came into the room. Their presence meant nothing to her. Only he did. Only the feel of his heart beating and chest rising under her arm mattered to her. She placed her lips against his neck and cried into his skin.

After a moment, she felt a soft touch on her back. "Magnus is here. We need to go." Isabelle's voice sounded hollow and very far away.

Clary tightened her grip on Jace. "No! I'm not going! He needs me. I want to stay."

She heard Magnus' voice. "She may stay. The rest of you go."

After a few moments, she heard Magnus speak.

"Clary," Magnus said, his voice soft. "I need to unwrap his wound. You may not want to look."

She met Magnus' cat eyes. "I'm fine. Do what you have to do."

Magnus nodded and removed Alec's shirt from Jace's side. An ugly red gash glared out, blood flowing over exposed muscle and bone. Clary stifled a gasp and forced herself not to gag. Magnus fixed his face into a concentrated scowl. His hands sparked with blue flame as he held them close to Jace's side. Clary watched as the muscles began to slowly knit themselves back together. Drops of sweat formed at Magnus' temples and his face screwed up with effort. The color drained from his skin and his flame flickered. Clary knew his energy was being exhausted.

Clary held out her hand to him. "Here. Take mine."

He glanced up at her. "Are you sure? We could get the others and just use a little from everyone."

"No. I want it to be me. Take mine, Magnus."

"I may drain you until you pass out, Clary."

"I don't care. Take it all. Just save him."

He studied her carefully before nodding.

Clary felt it the moment Magnus started drawing from her. It was almost like she was being sucked into a vacuum, her energy funneling out of her. Her lids grew heavy and her legs turned to jelly beneath her. With the last bit of her energy, she climbed up onto the tiny bed beside Jace and buried her face into his neck, placing a light kiss under his jaw. "I love you. Please come back to me. Please come back," she whispered just as a wave of darkness swept over her and threw her further into the deep black abyss.


	6. Chapter 6

****The characters of The Mortal Instruments are owned by Cassandra Clare. The original content, ideas and intellectual property of this story are owned by ddpjclaf, 2009. Please do not copy, reproduce, or translate without express written permission.****

_Majorly flufferific._

_

* * *

_

Bright streams of sunlight filtered through the large windows and glared against Clary's closed eyes. She pinched them shut tighter in an effort to stay asleep longer, but a light tickle against the top of her arm kept her from tumbling back down into slumber. Blinking several times, she opened her eyes and focused them on her arm, trying to see what caused the sensation. Long, tan pianist fingers stroked her skin lightly, gliding back and forth across the smooth plane of her arm. Suddenly, the memories of the previous night came flooding back to her in short flashes. Jace's limp body in Robert's arms. The drops of blood that trailed the hallway behind them. The sick, gray pallor of his skin. The long red gash in his side. The struggling beat of his heart.

Clary swallowed hard and lifted her head, meeting two beautiful tawny eyes.

"Hey," he said.

She gasped and drew herself up on her elbow. "Jace?" Her eyes darted over him, wondering if she was still dreaming and thinking she must be. Because there was no way he was there, looking at her, grinning in that way he did that made her stomach squeeze uncontrollably. "I'm dreaming aren't I? Am I dreaming?"

He reached up and stroked her cheek. "You're not dreaming. If you were, I'd hope I'd look a lot better than this."

"I'm not dreaming?"

He shook his head.

She reached forward and grabbed his face in her hand. "Oh! Jace!" She leaned down and kissed his cheeks, his eyelids, his nose, his chin, every inch of his face until finally ending at his lips. Sobbing against his mouth she cried, "Oh, my God. I thought I was going to lose you. I thought—"

He grabbed her face in his hands and pushed her back, meeting her eyes. "I promised you I'd come back, didn't I?"

She closed her eyes. Tears fell from them and streamed down her cheeks as she nodded her head. "You did."

He pulled her back to him, kissing her again. His arms wrapped around her, holding her so tight against him she wasn't sure there was a possible way to be closer. Without thinking, she tucked her arms under him and squeezed. He jerked and gasped. Clary let go quickly, her eyes wide.

"I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?"

"I'm just a little sore."

"Well, what about an _iratze_? Didn't they give you one?"

He nodded. "Demon poison is nasty stuff—you remember. Runes don't help against it. Just some good ol' warlock magic and a little rest. I'll be as good as new in a few days." He grinned.

She narrowed her eyes. "If you hadn't almost just died, I would kill you right now!"

"Why? What did I do?"

"You almost died!" Her voice rose to decibels normally only heard by dogs and flying rodents. "Don't you ever, ever, ever, ever do that to me again Jace Lightwood. Do you hear me? Ever."

"Well, I can't exactly promise you I'll never die, but I can promise that I'll do my absolute best to come back to you every time. Will that work?"

"No. It's not enough. It will never be enough. Do you know how I felt, Jace? I felt like I was going to die too, like I didn't want to live even a second without you." She brushed the hair on his forehead back. "You can't leave me. Ever."

"Okay." He lifted his chin and planted a kiss under hers. "I won't then."

"I'm going to hold you to that."

"Hey, that's my line. Speaking of which—why am I still wearing my gear?"

She laid her head down on his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heart. "The deal was, if you didn't get too much blood on it I'd take it off you. You are simply saturated in the stuff."

"Yeah but it's my own. That doesn't count, right?"

She laughed and sat up next to him, holding her hands out to him. "Okay, sit up."

He raised his brows but said nothing. Reaching out, he took her hands and helped him to sit up right, wincing herself when he did.

"Are you all right."

"Of course," he said, the pain evident in his voice.

"You don't have to be tough around me, Jace."

He met her eyes. "Okay, it hurts like hell, but I can't stand sitting in these bloody clothes a second longer."

"All right, promise you'll tell me if I hurt you?"

He nodded.

"Raise your arms so I can get this off." She fingered the bottom edge of the top of his gear.

He did as she asked, his eyes never leaving hers. Clary carefully pulled it up over his stomach, then his chest and finally his head and arms. She raised her brows questioningly. He smiled in response. She nodded and let out a slow breath. The black t-shirt he wore underneath was still a little wet and sticky with his blood. They repeated the process, and once the shirt was off, she threw both it and the gear into the corner. She looked around for a rag or something to help clean him off. Spying a pile of white washcloths near the sink in the corner, she stepped back and started toward it. After filling a container with warm water and grabbing a few washcloths and a towel, she went back to him.

She expected a smartass remark about how he'd always wanted a sponge bath but he stayed silent. Her hands shook as she dipped the cloth in the water and rung out the extra. Jace watched her as she gently scrubbed away every last drop of blood from his abdomen. When she finished, she stood there, unsure of what to do next. She stared at his pants, knowing they needed to come off, but since she'd never _seen_ him before she didn't know how to go about it.

"Um." She met his gaze, expecting a smirk, or a flicker of amusement in his eyes—something of the usual cocky Jace. But again, he only stared. Not an iota of sarcasm or flirtyness looked back at her. There was something there, smoldering behind the surface, but she had no idea what it was. Clary looked down, her cheeks filling with heat. "Jace. Your pants are covered in blood. We need to—um—take them off."

"Can you hand me that sheet?" His voice was quiet as he pointed behind her to a stack of folded bed sheets.

She looked at him, confused. "Why?"

"Because I can tell this makes you uneasy. I don't want you to be embarrassed."

"Are you?"

"No."

"Really? I thought—I thought maybe—"

"That I wouldn't like needing someone to take care of me?" He flashed a small humbled smile. "Normally, I don't. I wasn't raised to show weakness, to be vulnerable. You know that. But with you . . . I don't need to put on an act. I don't need to pretend. It doesn't bother me to show you that I need you, because I do Clary." He held his hand out. "The sheet, please."

Clary's eyes filled with tears and instead of the sheet, she placed her hand in his. "Forget the damn sheet."

"Clary—"

"No." She shook her head. "I can do this, Jace. I can do this for you. I'm not embarrassed. You said it yourself, you need me. And I'm not going to let my girlish insecurities about seeing you stop me from doing what I need to do to help you. I love you. I'm _in_ love with you. Nothing about this should bother me, and you know what, it doesn't. But, I'm going to respect you and I'm not going to look. Not right now. Okay?"

He smiled. "You are so adorable. I just thought you should know that."

"Shut up." Her cheeks turned an angry shade of red. "I really hope Maryse doesn't come in here right about now."

He laughed. "So, should I undo them or—"

"No. You just sit back and relax."

He raised a brow and opened his mouth to speak.

"Don't even say it Jace Lightwood."

"What?"

"Don't try to play dumb with me. You know I know what you were thinking, so just zip it."

He scrunched his nose and made a locking motion in front of his lips.

Clary took a deep breath and lowered her hands to the belt buckle on his pants. She undid it and pulled it through the loops, setting it aside on the bed. Her hands trembled slightly as she reached for the snap. She raised her gaze to Jace's and his eyes were on her, a glint of his knowing smirk shone back at her. Without looking down and thinking past the moment, she grabbed the snap, undid it and pulled the zipper down, letting out the breath she didn't know she was holding.

"Don't hurt yourself." Jace grinned.

"You're lucky I love you or else I would leave you here in these sopping bloody pants for the rest of your life."

"No you wouldn't. Sooner or later you would give in to temptation and would just have to see me naked."

"Is that a fact?"

He nodded. "That's a fact."

Clary paused, her hands lingering at the flap of his pants. "You know, I really want to kiss you right now but don't want you to misconstrue what I'm about to do here. So, could you please stop being so damn sexy and let me do this because the sooner I get it done and get you cleaned up, the sooner I can attack you—in the gentlest way possible of course." She took a deep breath.

His eyes grew wide and lowered to her hands which were still gripping his pants. "Um, I really think I need that sheet now."

###

Jace's supposed "few days of rest" lasted a whole twelve hours. Clary found him that evening in the training room throwing daggers at a bullseye. She stood back and watched as he threw knife after knife, always hitting the very centermost target.

"I thought you were supposed to be resting." She stepped up beside him, taking in the serious look on his face.

"This is resting." He drew his arm back level with his shoulder and with a flick of his wrist, sent the dagger flying, hitting its target once again.

Clary scowled. "Let me try that."

He raised his brows and stepped aside, handing her the knife he held in his hand.

Remembering the way Jace stood and the movements he made, Clary took aim and tossed the dagger forward. It flew from her hand and embedded into the wall just below the target. She blew out an exasperated breath. "How do you _do_ that and make it look so easy."

"Do what?" He twirled a blade in his hand and without so much as looking at the bullseye, released it, hitting the target right in the middle.

"You're such a showoff."

He smiled. "Here, let me give you a few pointers." Bending over, he picked up another small, silver dagger and then stepped up behind Clary, placing one of his hands on her hip. "When you hold it, you don't want to grip too hard. If you do, your aim will be all off. You need to be firm, but flexible. Keep your wrist loose," his hands moved up to Clary's wrist and wiggled it to demonstrate what he meant, "and then hold the hilt like this," he placed the blade in her hand, closing her fingers loosely around it, "then pull back, and release when your arm is fully outstretched." Jace closed his hand around Clary's, drew her arm back, flung it forward and loosened his grip when her arm extended fully. The dagger flew from her fingers hitting the bullseye dead on.

"Ah!" She squealed and jumped up once then threw herself into Jace's arms before remembering he was still healing. "Oh! I'm sorry! Did I hurt you?" She stepped back from him, her eyes wide and regretful.

"No." He lifted his shirt, revealing a thin silver line down the side of his abdomen where his wound had healed. "All better now."

Clary stepped forward and ran her finger down the new scar. She could barely feel it. When she reached the end she found that she didn't want to remove her hand, didn't want to stop touching him. She spread her fingers, laying them all against his skin. Reaching out, she placed her other hand on the other side of his stomach, brushing her thumb along the clean muscle definition. Heat from his body flowed into her like the currents of a river, warming her and drawing her closer to him. She leaned forward, placed her forehead against his chest and slipped her hands around his waist until they met at the small of his back. His arms drew around her, pulling her tight against him as he rested his chin atop her head.

"You all right?" he asked.

Clary closed her eyes. "Yes. I'm perfect actually. Just—don't move for a minute. Let me just stand here like this for a little while."

She felt his lips press against her hair. "I'm not going anywhere."

Taking a deep breath, Clary was instantly intoxicated with the scent of him. "You smell so good."

He laughed. "Oh yeah? What do I smell like?"

"I don't know." She breathed in deeply again. "Like you."

"Eau de Jace. Could be an interesting business venture."

"I'd buy it."

He sighed. "Clary, what am I going to do with you?"

She raised her head and met his eyes. "You could start by kissing me and see where that leads."

His mouth lifted in an amused smirk and then he bent, brushing his lips against hers. Clary removed one hand from his back and twisted it in his hair, pulling him harder against her. When he opened his mouth against hers, she lost herself in all the sensations flooding her. The feel of his skin under her fingers, his scent swirling around her, the sweet taste of him, it all filled her until she thought she might burst. She felt herself falling into a vortex of Jace and had no desire to come out of it anytime soon. Even when she heard the door open and footsteps growing closer to them, even then she didn't pull away. She continued kissing him, touching him, being with him in a way only she was allowed.

"Honestly, is that all you guys ever do?" Isabelle's annoyed voice came from right behind them.

"Yes," Clary mumbled against Jace's lips. "Now go away."

"Oh, I would. Believe me, the tension is this room is so thick I could cut it with a Seraph blade, but your little boy toy has a sparring date with Alec. Who, by the way, is pouting in the corner feeling all slighted."

"I am not." Alec's voice came from the other side of the room.

Jace chuckled against her lips. Clary sighed and pulled away, meeting his eyes. "Are you sure you're up to that?" She placed her hand to his side over the new scar. "You're still healing."

"Are you kidding me? I'm always up for sparring. Plus, he's been dying to get a piece of me when I'm not up to par." He leaned down and whispered in her ear. "Don't worry. I've still got this in the bag." He kissed her cheek and pulled away, jogging toward where Alec waited.

Isabelle rolled her eyes and plopped down on the ground next to where Clary stood. "Boys. They really are just a bunch of animalistic idiots."

Clary laughed and sat down next to her. "Yeah, they kinda are." She turned to face Isabelle and a jolt shot through her at the look on Isabelle's face. "Izzy, what's wrong?"

Isabelle hesitated. "How are you today, Clary?"

"Me?" Clary asked. "I'm fine, why?"

Isabelle looked away, her eyes focusing on the two boys sparring in the middle of the room. "Last night was—well, it was intense."

Clary followed her gaze to Jace and Alec. Jace's face donned his normal cocky smirk. Alec's held a scowl and his face was turning a deep shade of red. Jace managed to dodge just about every one of Alec's moves and landed Alec on his back more often than not. Clary watched in awe as his body moved across the mat, smooth, quick and graceful like a cat. "Yeah it was," she said finally.

She heard Isabelle sigh and then take in a shuttering breath. She turned to her to find Isabelle staring at her own hands. "Izzy?"

Isabelle turned and met her eyes. "Clary, I'm so sorry."

"Sorry? What do you have to sorry for?"

"Because I made you a promise. I promised we would keep him safe. That we would bring him back unharmed. I didn't do that."

"Izzy, he's fine, now. You did everything you could. I don't blame you at all for what happened."

"Don't you understand?" Her eyes pleaded. "If I hadn't been so cocky, if I hadn't lost my focus and gotten hurt, he wouldn't have felt the need to protect me. He got hurt protecting me."

"What is it with you Lightwood's always trying to place the blame on yourselves for things outside your control? Izzy, you know Jace. Protecting people he loves is what he does. It's just who he is. If we're going to be dolling out blame for Jace getting hurt protecting us, I think I'd be in the running too."

The self blame faded from Isabelle's eyes and she flicked her dark hair behind her shoulder. "You're right. You've gotten him hurt way more than I have."

Clary laughed. "Gee, thanks."

Alec and Jace jogged over to them then. "You ready to do target practice, Iz?" Alec asked.

"I suppose," she said as she hefted herself off the ground. "What about you? What are you guys going to do?" she asked Clary.

Clary turned to Jace. He was breathing hard and whipping sweat from his brow onto the front of his shirt. She smiled. "Maybe some mat practice—if Jace is up to it, that is."

His head snapped up and met her gaze. "I'm always up to it." He reached out and grabbed her hand, leading them to the center of the mat. He stood across from her, a small smile on his lips. "Ready?"

"Yep," she said and readied herself for his pounce.

When he reached her, she put up no resistance and allowed him to flip her onto her back, his body hovering over hers.

"You know, remaining upright is really the desired position," he said.

"Oh, I don't know." She raised her arms and wrapped them around his neck. "I'm kinda liking this position myself."

He grinned and lowered his lips to hers. She gripped him tighter and allowed herself to fall into him, pushing away every other sound, every other thought until the only things that existed were her and him. Just the way she liked it.


	7. Chapter 7

****The characters of The Mortal Instruments are owned by Cassandra Clare. The original content, ideas and intellectual property of this story are owned by ddpjclaf, 2009. Please do not copy, reproduce, or translate without express written permission.****

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The pulsing lights reflected eerily over Simon's vampiric skin, making him look just slightly wrong compared to everyone else—well, except for the other vampires grinding to the overly loud pulse of the music. He wished someone at Pandemonium would turn down the volume. With his super vampire hearing, he felt like his head might explode with each booming base note.

He glanced around, searching for the face he'd come to see. Surprised was an understatement as to how he'd felt when Clary called asking him if he'd like to meet up. It had been awhile since he'd really hung around with her. Not since before they'd gone to Idris. Now, she was busy training and busy with Jace. He scowled at the feeling it gave him to think of her and Jace together. Simon knew she loved Jace, loved him in a way she was never able to love Simon. He tried to be a man about it and enjoy the fact that he was her best friend. But he couldn't help feel the sting of rejection even now. It was stupid because he didn't even really want to be with Clary—not like that. He guessed it was just a whole guy macho thing. It was up to him to hate the man she ended up with, that was just his destiny and he planned to do an excellent job of it. Unfortunately, Jace had saved his life which made him indebted to him and surprisingly exacerbated his hatred for him. It was a double edged sword.

Finally, he spotted her wild, flaming red hair near the entrance followed by a golden gleaming halo of blond curls and two heads of sleek, silky black. If his heart could still beat it would have jumped at the sight of Isabelle. He'd tried not to fall for her. She was so out of his league with that gorgeous flowing hair, those full pouty lips, and a figure that just screamed "touch me." After their time together in Idris, he'd hoped there could be more, but it hadn't worked out that way. He was mostly to blame since it had been him who'd pulled away. But he just didn't feel good enough for her. Not anymore. Not like he was now.

"Simon!" Clary's voice carried over the pulsing beat. She opened her arms and before he knew it, strangled him in a hug. When she pulled away, she gave him a scolding look. "Why haven't you called since the other night? I tried you a few times but just got your voicemail."

"Really? I didn't get them," he lied. He had, he just couldn't call her back right away. Something about that bite to his arm had left him weaker than he thought possible. He hadn't wanted her to worry. If she'd seen him, or even heard his voice, she would have known. He knew she would. "I've been having a little trouble with my phone."

She frowned. "Well, then maybe you need to get another one. I was starting to get a little worried. I even called your Mom!"

"Sorry."

At that moment, Jace, Isabelle, and Alec strolled up behind Clary. Jace slipped his arm around Clary's waist and grinned at Simon. Simon clenched his jaw.

"Hey, bloodsucker. Drank any blood better than mine lately?" Jace asked.

Simon bit back a growl. "Seriously, if your head got any bigger you wouldn't be able to fit through the door." He hated being reminded of the fact that he'd drunk Jace's blood. Not only because now he would apparently have to listen to Jace's inane gloating for the rest of his life, but also because of the strange affect it had had on him. And he didn't mean the daywalking. Every time he was around Jace he felt this strange pull toward him. Like something about him called to Simon and he _hated_ that feeling. He knew it had to be the blood—it certainly wasn't his charming personality—but there was no way he'd ever drink from Jace again. If he thought the constant badgering was bad now he couldn't imagine how it would be then. He would rather die first.

"By the Angel," Isabelle said with an eye roll. "When is this constant chest thumping going to end? We get it. You're both men—although I'm beginning to wonder if maybe a new definition for what makes a man a man is in order."

Simon had to smirk, not many people could put Jace in his place. Isabelle was one of them. Unfortunately, he didn't think Jace heard a word that she'd said. His attention was focused on a group of girls surrounding a tall boy with green sparkly hair and a lip ring. The boy looked utterly human to Simon, but he sometimes had a hard time seeing past demon glamour.

Jace's hand fell to his side. Simon knew he kept his weapons hidden there under his shirt. Jace leaned down, never moving his eyes from the corner, and pressed his lips to Clary's temple. "I'll be right back. Stay here," he said.

"But—" Clary reached out for him but he was already gone, followed closely by Alec and Isabelle. She let out an exasperated sigh.

Simon stared down at her, noticing the scowl lines etched into her forehead. "What's the deal? Why do you have to stay here?"

She glanced up at him and rolled her eyes. "My mother made Jace promise not to let me in on the action until I was properly trained." She made the universal quotation sign when she said the word "properly."

"Oh," Simon said. For once, he didn't disagree with Jace's actions. He would much prefer Clary never dealing with demons. "Do you want to dance?"

She glanced around, distracted. "Um, yeah. I just—I have to use the restroom first. Okay?"

"Sure. I'll wait right here."

She nodded and headed toward the back of the club, her eyes straying in the direction Jace had gone. Simon shook his head and stared down at his hands. As long as he lived, he would never understand her attraction to Jace.

"Is that girl your girlfriend?" A soft, smooth voice spoke beside him.

Simon glanced up and met the eyes of a strangely exotic girl. Her hair, as black as night, hung down to her waist and her almond shaped eyes shone in the strangest shade of green—almost sage. He knew immediately that this girl was not human, but he had no idea what she could be. Her skin was a perfectly smooth alabaster white and had not a single imperfection. The scent of blood and dirt sifted off from her, invading his sensitive nose. He felt a strange draw to this girl, one he couldn't explain, but almost as if he were captivated by her. "No," he said. "She's just my friend."

"Oh." A small smile creeped over her lips. "I'm Violet." She held her hand out to him like women did in old movies when they wanted someone to kiss their hand.

"Simon." He reached out and grabbed her hand, shaking it awkwardly.

She leaned forward, her face mere inches from Simon's. "So, Simon," her breath cascaded over his face its scent causing his eyes to roll back into his head, "are you up for a little fun?" She grinned giving him a peek at her fangs. Was she a vampire? She didn't seem like a vampire.

Simon couldn't think. His mind clouded over and he could do nothing but nod his head. Violet reached out and slid her hand in his, the feel of her skin sending sparks up his arm. He felt all his will dissolve as he let the mysterious, alluring girl guide him to the back doors of the club.

When she had him outside, Violet turned to him, placed two fingers on his chest, and pushed him toward the building. His back hit the cold brick wall and Violet folded herself up against his front. Her scent drove him crazy and caused his fangs to slip lower into his bottom lip.

She nuzzled her head against his throat, took in a deep breath, and sighed. "You smell different that other vampires. Better. Almost—not human but—" She inhaled again, her eyes rolling back. "Oh, it's absolutely mouth watering." She raised her gaze to his and swiped a hand across his forehead, moving his dark hair to the side. "Ah, ha." She grinned wider. "That explains it. You're the daylighter everyone talks about."

Simon couldn't move. It was almost as if he was frozen in a block of ice. The only thing he knew was that he wanted this girl more than he'd wanted any before her. He couldn't comprehend why since he didn't know her at all, but he didn't care.

"If you smell this good, I wonder what you would _taste_ like." Her eyes glinted in the streetlight. She raised a blood red fingernail and scratched it across Simon's neck. He would have thought that might hurt, but all he felt was pleasure at her touch. Suddenly, he wanted her to drink from him. He didn't know that vampires could be drunk from but he was sure he wanted it more than anything else. Closing his eyes, he imagined her tongue slipping between her perfect red lips and lapping up the drops of blood he felt sliding down his neck. He felt her drawing nearer to him, the slow agonizing pace making him want to grab her and pull her to him faster. Just as she was about to press her lips to his neck he heard a sharp snap and Violet jerked back from him with a hiss.

Groggily he opened his eyes to find Isabelle standing a few feet away holding the end of her whip which was wrapped around Violet's body. Behind Isabelle stood Jace, Alec, and Clary. Clary's eyes were wide with disbelief.

Simon felt his head finally starting to clear and confusion settling in. He looked around wondering why he was outside. "What am I doing in the alley?"

Jace chuckled and stepped forward standing just in front of Violet. "Oh, Simon, Simon, Simon." He shook his head. "Looks like you got yourself a little vampiric succubus here." He tilted his head. "Isn't that right?"

Violet narrowed her eyes, and then as if she had just noticed him, her mouth split into a grin. "You are very pretty," she said to Jace.

"That," he took a step toward her, "is something I already know. What I don't know," he reached to his side and pulled out a long knife, studying the way it glinted in the dim light, "is what you want from our bloodsucking friend here."

"Why should I tell you Shadowhunter?" She focused her eyes on Jace's. Simon could feel the allure pouring out of her and he longed to go to her. He started to move toward her until he felt a strong grip on his arm. Alec stood at his side.

Jace grinned. "Sorry, you evil little seductress, your charms won't work on me." He stepped closer to her until his body almost touched hers. "Now, I'm going to ask you one more time," he placed the knife tip against her throat, "what do you want with Simon."

Violet opened her mouth to speak when suddenly her eyes widened. "You." Her gaze shifted between Jace and Simon. "It's you!" She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes for a moment before opening them again. "It's you I smell on him."

Jace raised his brows. "Excuse me, but I have never nor will I ever be anywhere close to being _on_ Simon."

"No. Your essences, they are the same. You are in his blood. I can smell you through every pore in his skin. He has fed from you, yes?"

Jace did not answer, only stared.

"But you are not an ordinary boy are you?"

"Of course not. I'm a Shadowhunter."

Violet shook her head. "No, it's more than that and I know you know it." Her eyes widened and flicked back to Simon. "Your blood did this to him, didn't it? It's your blood they want. That's what allows him to walk in the daylight. They think the link is him, but it's really you."

Jace pressed the knife harder against her neck, a small bead of blood pooled at the tip. "Who are 'they?'"

Violet laughed, a shrill and menacing sound. "You think I'm going to tell you? Not a chance, but . . . maybe—" Her eyes grew wide with lust and her incisors stretched down, grazing her bottom lip.

Jace's brows rose. "You want a taste?" He glanced down at the knife in his hand and slid his finger along the sharp blade. Blood welled up on his fingertip and he held it in front of the rabid succubus. "Is this what you want?" He rubbed his fingers together, spreading the crimson liquid out and increasing the potency of its scent.

Even Simon's mouth watered against his will.

A low screech emanated from Violet's throat as she thrashed against Isabelle's whip, trying her hardest to get to Jace.

"Come on Jace. Just do it already!" Isabelle called through gritted teeth. Her hands shook on the end of the whip.

"She knows something, Izzy. We can't just—"

"If we don't she'll get away and tell someone what she knows about you. Now, do it!"

Jace focused on the succubus again. "This is your last chance." His voice was low and deadly. "Who is looking for Simon—for the reason he is what he is, and why?"

Violet met his gaze, smiled, and then spit venom in his face.

Jace closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. "Now, you really shouldn't have done that." In a movement quicker than even Simon's eyes could comprehend, Jace drew the knife across her throat, cutting through bone, ligament, tendon and blood vessels in one clean swipe. Blood sprayed up from her neck as her body fell slack in the clutch of Isabelle's whip. Her head fell to the ground and rolled to a stop at Simon's feet, her blank eyes staring up at him.

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Darkness clung to Clary. Its suffocating weight filled her nose, her mouth, and pressed on her body like a vise. She took an agonizing step forward feeling as though she was trudging through a pool of mud. After a few more steps, she felt her feet moving a bit easier but the black never dissipated, never lessened. She flung her arms out in front of her, looking for anything that might give her an idea of where she was. She tried to call out but no sound came from her lips.

Panic clenched her chest as she screamed over and over for Jace, for anyone to hear her. Hot tears spilled over her cheeks as she ambled around, blind and mute. As soon as she started feeling as though maybe she was just nowhere—an alternate reality of nothingness—her toe hit something solid and she fell forward, her hand contacting something hard, wet and sticky in front of her. She pressed against it, her fingers coming away with a sucking sensation. Suddenly she felt something grow warm in her pocket. She reached down, patted it, and reached inside, her fingers closing around the smooth witchlight stone. She grasped it in her trembling hand and pulled it out. A bright glow erupted from between her fingers, illuminating the object it front of her. It was a wall, a plain stone wall covered in an oozing, sticky, red fluid. It bled from the cracks between the stone, running down to the ground in streams.

She looked down at her hand. It was coated in red. For a second she wondered what it was and then suddenly she was assaulted by the sickening scent of salt and copper. Blood. Her eyes widened as she took in the torrents of blood running from the walls and pooling to the floor around her. She stumbled backward, tripping over an object behind her. She fell, her back striking the hard ground and knocking the breath out of her. Warm, coppery smelling fluid soaked into her clothing and her hair. Struggling to right herself, her hand brushed against something. Something silky and soft. She stretched the witchlight out in the direction her hand had felt it and her breath caught in her throat. A halo of golden curls attached to Jace's sickeningly pale face.

Clary scrambled up to her knees and held the light over his body. His chest was still. Skin the color of freshly fallen snow. It clung to his bones as if he had been sucked dry, leaving nothing inside. She silently screamed his name into the dark, reaching out and touching his hard, cold face. She threw herself onto him as the pooling blood grew nearer, soaking into him, coating him in the scent of life. Life he was absent of.

As sobs wracked her body, her fingers loosened on the witchlight, plunging them both into darkness. It was then that she heard it. The first sound that touched her ears since this whole nightmare had begun, a voice so sweet and oddly familiar that she stopped crying long enough to listen.

_Keep it hidden._

Keep it hidden? Clary had no idea what the words meant. Keep what hidden? Just as she thought the question, images flashed in her mind. Lines, curves and swirls in a deliberate pattern repeated over and over. She tried to make sense of it, but she couldn't. She'd never seen it before and even though she knew what it was, she didn't know what it meant.

_Keep it hidden._ The voice repeated.

_Keep what hidden? _Clary screamed in her mind. The witchlight flashed bright from its place on the ground bathing the entire blood drenched room in a blinding white light. It slowly faded, leaching from the outer limits to the center, leaving Jace for last. The light closed in around him, making his pale, sunken face the last thing she saw before darkness swallowed them both again.

_Keep it hidden._

Clary jerked up in bed, sweat pouring down her face, her heart hamming in her chest and her hands shaking uncontrollably. She jumped out of bed, not caring in the least that all she wore was a flimsy camisole and boyshort underwear. Jerking the door open, she flew into the hall, running faster than she thought possible. When she reached the door, she pounded as hard as she could, her breath coming in short gasps, tears filling her eyes.

After a moment, the door opened revealing a very sleepy, half-dressed Jace.

"Clary?" His eyes widened through his sleep induced haze.

She flung herself into his arms, feeling for herself that he was still warm, still full of life, not cold and empty.

He wrapped his arms around her and pushed the door shut with his foot. "Clary, what's going on? You're trembling."

She couldn't answer, her throat choked with sobs and the images from her dream replayed over and over in her mind. Pressing her head to his chest, she heard the unmistakable beat of his heart. In that instant, the lines, curves and swirls of the rune from her dream flashed in her mind again, followed by the cryptic words: _Keep it hidden._ Her eyes snapped open and she looked up. His frightened eyes met hers, questions burning in them. Suddenly, she knew what it meant, knew what she had to do.

"Where's your stele?"

"My stele? Clary what—"

"Where's your stele, Jace?" she shouted.

His mouth fell open in shock. "On the dresser, but what—"

Clary wrenched herself from his arms and flew to the dresser, wrapping her fingers around the cool, smooth instrument. She turned back to him, sorry for the frightened look she'd caused on his face, but knew this was right. She could feel it in every bone in her body.

"Lay down, Jace."

"What? Clary—"

"Just do it, Jace!"

Slowly, he backed up and sat on the end of the bed, his eyes regarding her as if she was crazy.

"Please," she said as she walked up to the bed and knelt in front of him. "Please just trust me."

She stood again and pushed gently against his chest. He put up no resistance as she climbed up onto him, straddling his abdomen. His eyes studied her with fierce curiosity but he said nothing. Clary closed her eyes and studied the rune once more before opening them and placing the stele against the skin just above his heart. As she began to etch the lines, the instrument grew hot under her fingers. The unease in her chest lifted and filled with the sense that this was right, this was what she was meant to do. She focused on each curve, each swirl, making sure it was perfect.

Just as she'd almost finished, Jace spoke. "Clary," his voice was quiet, "what are you doing?"

The stele came to a stop at the end of the last line and she raised her gaze to meet his. "Keeping it hidden."

As the words left her lips, the rune on his chest erupted in a brilliant golden glow that filled the room with light. An overwhelming sense of peace swept over her. All of her anxiety seeped out of her body and burned up in the dazzling illumination. She watched as the light slowly dimmed, leaving a deep black rune in his skin, but before she knew it the black started to fade almost as if were soaking into his skin. Little by little, it disappeared into him, spreading throughout his body, protecting and hiding the thing that Clary held most dear. Him.


	8. Chapter 8

****The characters of The Mortal Instruments are owned by Cassandra Clare. The original content, ideas and intellectual property of this story are owned by ddpjclaf, 2009. Please do not copy, reproduce, or translate without express written permission.****

_**Lyrics to Hot and Cold are the property of Katy Perry**_

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Jace's arm tingled under the weight of Clary's body. Even though it grew more uncomfortable by the second, there was no way he'd risk waking her to move it. After she'd arrived at his room and practically assaulted him to place an unknown rune on his chest, she'd collapsed next to him and sobbed until she fell asleep. He had no idea what prompted her midnight visit or what the rune was supposed to do. If he had any sense at all, he should have probably been scared or at least a little nervous about that, but as it was, he trusted Clary with his last breath and knew she would never do anything to harm him. Absently, he reached up and touched the spot just above his heart where she had applied the rune. The scarred lines already rose from his skin.

He flexed his fingers in an effort to get his blood circulating again and peeked over at Clary. Her hair splayed across his pillow in fiery red tendrils. Sleep transformed her face to what he could only describe as that of an angel. She looked so peaceful, like she had exorcised all her demons last night and nothing but sunshine occupied her dreams now. Jace studied her soft, porcelain skin and the smattering of red freckles dotting her nose and cheeks. Clary called them imperfections, but Jace thought they added to her beauty. They made her seem more—innocent, somehow.

She'd fallen asleep tucked up against his side with her hands clasped under her chin. Dark red eyelashes curled up and brushed her cheek. Her eyes moved under her lids. She was dreaming. Jace smiled to himself, wondering what she was seeing. She looked happy so it couldn't be anything bad.

Clary sighed and snuggled in closer to him, removing one hand from under her chin and sliding it across his chest, hugging him tighter to her. Her movement released his trapped arm, and the feeling came back in a painful rush. He knew they should get up, but not a single part of him wanted to move. It wasn't often they had moments like this, alone without anything distracting them. He carefully wrapped his arms around her and closed his eyes, relishing in the moment and wishing he could wake up every day with her in his arms.

After a few minutes, he felt her sir. "I know you're awake," she said.

He smiled, his eyes still closed. "How do you know?"

"You don't snore when you're awake."

"I don't snore when I'm asleep either—that would be you."

"I thought I drooled?"

"You do that, too."

He felt her body shake with a giggle. She moved her hand to rest at the center of his chest and started drawing small circles with her finger. God, he loved when she did that. He loved whenever she touched him, but something about those slow, flirty circles nearly drove him out of his mind.

"So . . . how crazy was I last night?" she asked, a worried edge to her voice.

"Not any more so than normal."

"Jace, be serious, you looked like I totally freaked you out. I would have been if you came to my room like that."

He hesitated, not really sure of the answer to her question. Had he been freaked? Yes and no. Jace didn't panic easily and he knew that whatever had sent her into such a fit had to be something important. At least to her.

Clary shifted next to him, raising herself onto her elbow and meeting his eyes. Hers were wide and nervous. She was waiting for his answer and he didn't have one, but he knew he needed to say something.

"I don't know if freaked is really the term I'd use." He drew one arm up and placed it behind his head.

Clary laced her hands together on his chest and lay her chin down on them, looking up at him under her lashes. "What term would you use then?"

He sighed and instead of answering her question, he asked one of his own. "Are you ever going to tell me what that was all about?"

She let out a slow breath and climbed up, straddling his abdomen like she had the night before. Reaching down she touched the spot she'd applied the rune to and closed her eyes. Jace studied her, wondering what was going through her mind. When she opened her eyes, she grabbed the hand that lay to his side and held it between both of hers.

"I had one of those weird dreams again. You know, the ones where it seems like someone is sending me a message?"

Jace nodded, a strange knot forming in his gut.

"It was so weird, and so scary." She looked to the ceiling as if it somehow magically held the answers she was looking for. "It was so dark and . . . quiet. I couldn't even hear my own screams." She met his gaze again. "And then I tripped and fell against the wall, it was all wet and sticky. Somehow, I realized I had a witchlight with me. I held it up to the wall and saw—and saw it was—it was covered with blood. No, not covered—blood was flowing from it and pooling on the ground." She closed her eyes. "There was so much blood. So much."

She opened her eyes and focused on Jace again. She squeezed his hand hard between hers. "When I tried to get away I tripped, and then I saw—I saw you. And you were—" Her voice choked in her throat. "You were . . . gone. You were just an empty shell." She lowered her eyes. "I called to you. I threw myself on you and screamed your name, but you were no longer there." She looked at him again. "And that's when I heard it. A voice. It said, _keep it hidden._ I didn't know what that meant. But then I saw a rune flash over and over in my mind. After that, the witchlight flared and then went out. The last thing I saw was your face. And the last thing I heard was that voice, repeating those words, _keep it hidden_."

She dropped his hand and raised hers to her face, covering it. "When I woke up I felt this indescribable need to come to you. I had to see you, to feel you and know you were still here. And when I got here it finally all came together and I knew what it meant." She lowered her hands and met his gaze once more. "That rune was meant for you. That whole dream was telling me what I needed to do to save you."

"Save me from what, Clary? And how is that rune supposed to do that?"

Clary bent down until her face hung just above his. "In the dream when the voice kept saying _keep it hidden,_ I had no idea what it meant. But when I leaned my head against you and heard your heart beating it just clicked. The things the succubus said about you being the key; the blood coming from everywhere; you, drained of every drop of yours, lying on the floor. What I had to keep hidden was you. Your blood, your essence. The rune will hide that from anyone who may be looking for it, from anyone who would want to use it. No one will know that you are the one who made Simon what he is."

Jace lay there in silence for several minutes, trying to digest everything she'd said. Was he really protected? He'd never thought there was a way to tell that Simon had gotten his daywalking ability from him. The night before, he figured it was only the succubus that could smell it since they are attracted to their prey by their essences. But if Clary received a dream telling her to "hide" him, did that mean that there were others out there that would sense the connection too? And if they came after him, would they come after her too? She was given angel blood too. Was she in danger as well?

She raised her hands to his face and ran her fingers through his hair. "What are you thinking?"

"I—I don't really know." He studied her face, memorizing every feature. Reaching up he cupped her face in his hands. "You're amazing, you know that? The things you can do . . ."

She grinned. "Why, I do believe you're stuttering. How unlike you, Jace."

He couldn't help smiling back. "You're right. I'm usually much more eloquent than that. Don't tell anyone."

She giggled then closed her eyes and sighed. "I know this isn't a solution. I mean, your blood can still do what it did to Simon, but maybe this will keep that a secret for at least a little longer."

"What about you? Maybe yours can do the same thing."

Clary shook her head. "I don't know, but the dream was specific to you. The rune was for you. There was no indication I was in danger, that I needed to hide anything of myself."

"But that doesn't make sense. Valentine gave the angel blood to both of us."

"Maybe that's not what it is, or maybe not all. We don't have any idea of everything Valentine did to us. Especially you. You lived with him for ten years. Maybe there's more to this."

"Great. Just when I was starting to loathe myself a little less."

"Stop it." Clary leaned down and pressed her lips to his then looked over her shoulder at the door. When she turned back, she had a thoughtful look on her face.

"What?"

She tilted her head to the side and gave him a sly grin. "How much time do you think we have before Isabelle starts barging into our rooms?"

A slow grin spread over Jace's lips. "Maybe an hour. Why?"

Clary rose from the bed, grabbed his stele from the dresser and walked over to the door. She lifted her arm and started etching a locking rune into the wood. She was grinning when she turned around. "There is just too much barging in going on around here and we are long overdue for some uninterrupted alone time."

"Is that so?"

"Yes." She crawled back onto the bed, resuming her previous position.

In a swift motion, Jace reached up and grabbed her, flipping her over onto her back. She gasped in surprise. "Now just remember, you didn't place a silencing rune on the door—an oversight in your extreme excitement to be with me, I'm sure. So, we're going to have to be quiet." He placed his finger to his lips.

She giggled.

"That's not being quiet."

She giggled again. He smiled and crushed his lips to hers; effectively silencing any more giggles she may have had waiting.

###

"Clary, just concentrate." Isabelle stood off to the side as Clary practiced striking the target with a whip. "It's really not that hard."

Clary groaned. "Maybe the whip isn't my thing." She walked over to the nearby bench and plopped down, lowering her chin into her hands. "Maybe nothing is my thing."

"Come on." Isabelle joined her on the bench. "Everybody has a thing. Mine is the whip. Alec is good with a bow, and Jace—" She frowned. "Well, Jace just seems to be good at everything. He's a freak of nature."

Clary rolled her eyes. "I know. It's disgusting really."

"Hey! You're good with runes. None of us can do what you do and it isn't even something we can learn."

Clary rolled her eyes. "Oh, yes, that is so incredibly helpful when a demon attacks. Maybe I could just sit down and start drawing on the ground while it tries to impale me. Good plan."

Isabelle shrugged. "It's not like you have to be exceptional at fighting anyway, Clary. You've got your own personal superhero."

"Jace doesn't need to worry about me everytime we go out. I should be able to hold my own out there. If I can't it just distracts him."

"Do you think, even if there was any one thing you excelled at in fighting, that he would stop worrying about you? I mean, Jace is more than capable of taking on pretty much anything and you still worry about him."

"That's because he doesn't think before he acts."

Isabelle laughed. "So true."

Clary sighed and stood, stretching out her tired muscles. "I need to blow off some steam. I feel all—anxious or something."

Isabelle's eyes widened. "We could do some kickboxing. That always loosens me right up."

Clary scowled. "I don't really want any broken ribs right now." She glanced over at the bag she'd brought into the training room with her. Walking over to where it lay, she bent and rummaged through the front pocket. Her fingers brushed over the hard plastic cover of her ipod and she pulled it out, waving it in front of her. "I think we need to have a little fun."

"You don't think training is fun?"

Clary thought back to her sparring matches with Jace. She raised a brow. "It has its moments." She flashed Isabelle a grin.

"Ew. I'm sorry I asked."

She laughed and walked to the corner where she'd insisted Jace hook up an ipod dock to the stereo system. The others preferred silence when training and she respected that, but when she worked out she liked music. Placing the ipod on the dock, she turned the volume up loud and pressed play.

"Come on." She gestured to Isabelle.

Isabelle grinned. "Mom is going to have a fit if she finds us screwing around instead of training." She paused. "But since when do I care?"

Clary laughed as she grabbed Isabelle's hands and within seconds both girls were jumping, swaying and singing aloud to the booming music.

"'_Cause you're hot then you're cold. You're yes then you're no. You're in then you're out. You're up then you're down. You're wrong when it's right. It's black and it's white. We fight we break up. We kiss we make up."_

"Oh my God!" Isabelle panted. "Who does this sound like?"

Clary laughed. "I know! I used to think about him every time I heard this song when I first met you guys!"

"And you don't now?"

"Nah. He doesn't act like that with me—well, not most of the time anyway."

"Yeah, I'm sure." Isabelle twirled around, her hair cascading behind her in a blanket of silky black.

Clary lifted her hands above her head, closed her eyes, and swayed to the music. She lost herself in the beat and the freedom to just be. To just relax and breathe. It seemed like life was just so stressful all the time, she never realized how much she missed just normal, mundane things like dancing. She opened her eyes, gasped, and stopped mid-sway.

Jace stood leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed over his chest and a smirk on his face. Alec stood next to him, his expression amused. "Oh, don't stop on our account," Jace said. "I was thoroughly enjoying the show."

"We're not here for your amusement, Jace," Isabelle said, but kept dancing regardless.

"I beg to disagree," he answered.

Clary laughed and resumed moving to the music. Jace's eyes stayed on her as she moved to Isabelle and the girls danced together, laughing and twirling. After a moment, she turned back to Jace and pointed, wiggling her fingers and beckoning him to her.

"Oh no, I don't dance."

"You don't or you can't? I hardly believe it's the latter. I've seen you move on the mat."

He smirked. "I can."

"Well then." She sashayed over to him, dragging her finger along his chest and back as she circled him. "Why don't you show me then?" She ran her hand down his arm and grabbed his hand, pulling him out to the center of the mat.

Isabelle followed her lead and dragged Alec out with her.

"Great. I have to dance with my sister."

"Shut up. Like I have any other options," Isabelle said.

Clary smirked up at Jace. "Well?" He smiled at her in a way that sent shivers racing down her spine.

He looked down at their clasped hands then glanced back at her, peering up through his lashes. "Are you sure you're ready for this?"

Clary's eyes widened as he grasped her hand tightly and twirled her around so she faced away from him. Grabbing her hips, he pulled her body flush against his. He ran his fingers along her arm and pulled it up, wrapping it around the back of his neck. Her breath caught as he slid his hands down her sides and roughly grabbed her hips again before moving his with hers. She closed her eyes and leaned into him, allowing him to lead her. Her fingers mingled with the curls at nape of his neck as he placed a soft kiss on her shoulder. She was vaguely aware of Isabelle and Alec dancing and laughing near them, but the only thing she could focus on was the feel of Jace's body pressed into hers. His fingers brushed her bare midriff sending shocks through her entire body. Her face flared, but not from embarrassment for once.

She lowered her arm and he caught her hand, spinning her again to face him. His arm wrapped around her waist, drawing her against him again. She raised both of her arms to circle his neck. He leaned down until his forehead rested on hers. Her legs felt like jelly, but there was no way she wanted to stop.

"You weren't kidding," she said, her voice breathy. "You really can dance."

He smiled. "Yes, well, you're not so bad yourself."

"Um, I think you're doing all the work. I can't even feel my legs anymore."

He laughed and bent to kiss her just as the music abruptly stopped in the middle of the song. They looked up, confused, until they saw Maryse standing next to the stereo, her arms crossed and her foot tapping the floor. She glared at them.

Clary's face flared for a completely different reason as she untangled herself from Jace.

Instead of commenting on the compromising position she'd found them, Maryse cleared her throat and said, "You all have ten minutes to make yourselves presentable. We have a visitor." She turned and walked back toward the door.

"Mom, who is it?" Alec called after her.

Maryse turned, her face pinched into a scowl. "The Seelie Queen has sent one of her guard. She has some information for us and has requested you to appear at her court." She looked unhappy about the fact that the Queen had requested meeting with them instead of her. "Now, hurry up." She turned and spun on her heel, allowing the door to slam shut behind her.


	9. Chapter 9

****The characters of The Mortal Instruments are owned by Cassandra Clare. The original content, ideas and intellectual property of this story are owned by ddpjclaf, 2009. Please do not copy, reproduce, or translate without express written permission.****

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The moon reflected off the surface of the water, a still, silver circle glimmering on the glass-like plane. Turtle Pond looked the same as it had the last time Clary had been there. Its façade gave the illusion of tranquility, but she felt anything but calm. She knew the faeries were devious creatures. Lovely and innocent enough looking, but underneath they were just as much demon as angel. Even though they could not lie, they loved to play with those that were not their own. They had no concern for human emotion and enjoyed seeing what they could get others to do. They seemed to know things about anyone who stood before the court, and would use those things for their own benefit—or amusement. As they had with her and Jace the last time.

Clary shuddered at the memory of their kiss in the Seelie Court. She could still feel both the fear and longing that flowed through her at the time. Knowing she and Jace believed they were brother and sister, the Queen had sensed their true feeling for each other and had made a kiss between them the only thing that could free Clary from the court. It had been agonizingly cruel and had left both of them feeling confused and broken.

Clary glanced over at Jace. His face was drawn and blank. She knew he was unhappy about her having to come. He didn't trust the Seelie Queen around her after the last time. But, the Queen's instructions had been for both of them to come. Jace was convinced she just wanted to play more games with them. Clary wasn't so sure. Maryse insisted Alec and Isabelle escort them—just in case. She would have come herself, but the Queen forbade it. Another reason for Jace's suspicion.

His hand clutched hers tightly as they neared the water's edge. Clary peered out to the center where the quaint wooden gazebo sat. She remembered when Isabelle had waited for them there. She'd thought she looked like a princess waiting for her prince. The whole scene looked like something out of a fairytale.

Jace took one step toward the water and froze. His hand trailed down to his side and before Clary knew what was happening, he pushed her forward and spun around, his dagger out and tucked under a very white throat.

"Simon!" Clary gasped.

Jace lowered his blade with a huff. "You very nearly lost your head bloodsucker," he growled. "Don't ever sneak up on us again."

"I didn't realize walking at a normal, human-like pace was considered sneaking, but okay." He took a step back from Jace, smoothing his hands over the front of his black T-shirt that read EPIC T-SHIRT +6.

"What are you doing here?" Jace asked, annoyance tingeing every word.

"The Seelie Queen asked—well, more like_ demanded_ I come. I'm guessing you received the same polite invitation?"

Before Jace could answer, another voice spoke from the shadows. "If I'd known this was going to be a party, I would have dressed more appropriately." Magnus stepped into the moonlight. His naturally black hair was a deep shade of purple and stuck up in every direction. A green sequined shirt shimmered in the dim light.

"Magnus?" Alec asked before walking up to his boyfriend. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"Nice to see you too, gorgeous." He leaned forward and kissed Alec full on the lips, leaving remnants of his sparkling lip gloss behind. "Seelie Queen rendezvous—same as you, I expect."

Jace resheathed his dagger and grabbed Clary's hand again. "Great. Now the whole family's here."

Isabelle glanced up at the sky. "We should go. The moon is almost right."

Jace tugged on Clary's arm, pulling her out into the chilly water. She hated this part. Cool liquid soaked through her shoes, wrapped around her legs and traveled up the fabric of her jeans, soaking her before she even submerged that part of herself in the pond.

When they reached the center of the moons reflection, Jace turned to her. "I'll go first, you come after me."

Clary nodded as he took a few more steps, turned around and vanished. She held her breath, trudged to the same spot as he'd been and spun around. Instantly, she felt a sensation of falling. Before she knew it, her feet hit the ground and Jace's arms went around her to steady her. Water flowed from her hair, over her face,, and down to the hard dirt below her shoes. She pushed tangled wet curls from her eyes, grabbed her long locks and squeezed out the extra water. Her jeans weighed heavily from her hips, making movement uncomfortable.

She glanced up at Jace, his fair clung to his head, dripping water down his forehead and cheeks. "That wasn't as bad as last time," she said.

He chuckled, his breath puffed out in a white cloud. Behind them, they heard another thump as Simon landed behind them. "Ugh. This place is still creepy. Who would want to live underground with twisty tree roots as décor?"

Clary didn't answer but looked around at the hollowed out dirt corridor. The walls and ceiling curved in an arch and were covered by coiling roots and moss. It smelled of damp earth and decay.

Another couple thumps and Magnus and Alec appeared, followed closely by Isabelle. Magnus had been miraculously unaffected by his plunge in the pond. His clothing was dry and his hair still contained all its color and stuck up in exactly the same fashion. Clary wished she could say the same for herself. She was sure she looked only a slight bit better than a drowned rodent.

A rustling in front of them drew Clary's attention to the vine curtain at the end of the passage. A faerie guard she'd never seen before stepped through the part he'd made in the greenery. Thick silver hair flowed from his head to his shoulders, creating a strange effect in combination with his pale green skin. His black eyes settled on them, causing a shiver to rip through Clary's body. Jace wrapped his arm around her, pulling her to him.

"Where's Meliorn?" Isabelle's voice came from behind them.

"Meliorn is not of your concern," the faerie guard answered. "Please follow me. The Queen is waiting."

Jace squeezed her shoulder as they started forward after the guard. As they passed through the curtain, they entered the underground pavilion. Music filled the air, beckoning all who entered to dance. Clary closed her eyes, not wanting to take in any of the dancing faeries and their terrible loveliness. Last time had been enough. She still sometimes had nightmares of faeries with skeletal chests and protruding ribs twined with ribbon. Another shudder wracked through her.

After a moment, she felt the atmosphere change and the volume of the music dropped. She opened her eyes to find herself inside the Queen's chamber once more. The dark walnut colored walls gleamed as though they'd been lacquered with shiny, clear paint. An entourage of faerie's surrounded a large sheer canopied cushion. Upon it sat the Queen, her silky auburn hair twisted around her just as the roots in the corridor clung to the walls and ceiling. A flowing blue gown, the exact color of her eyes, clung to her, swaying like branches in a breeze around her body as she stood. She moved toward them with such grace she appeared to float.

"I appreciate your prompt answer to my request of your attendance," she said, as she swept her arm out toward the same satiny cushions they had occupied the last time. "Please, sit."

Clary and Jace walked forward, the others following close behind. As they sat, the same pixie who had served them before came by with small cups of sweet smelling liquid. Knowing that refusing the Queen's bounty was considered rude; Clary took one of the tulip shaped containers and held it carefully in her fingers. Jace gave her a look that said, "Don't drink that." She shook her head, assuring him that she remembered—all too well.

The Queen stood before them, her hands clasped in front of her and her piercing blue eyes studying them carefully. She sighed, a sound almost below their ability to hear, and turned to take her seat once again upon the satin cushion. Several faeries fluttered around, adjusting her dress, her hair, and fluffing the pillows surrounding her.

"I know you must all be wondering why it is that I have summoned you here." She brushed long pale fingers through her hair.

"We are my lady," Jace answered in the same formal tone he'd used before.

"Through our . . . connections, we have heard rumblings of a new adversary rising. As you know, we Fey normally do not concern ourselves with matters outside our own kind, but because we feel a certain kinship to you after the battle in Idris, we felt we should pass along what we have learned."

"We appreciate your willingness to involve yourself, even if in just a small amount," Jace answered.

It unnerved Clary to hear Jace speak this way. It wasn't like him. Not that he couldn't be polite, but she preferred his smart mouth and cocky attitude. Though, she couldn't believe she was actually admitting that to herself.

"We heard of the slayings of the Night Children and the Children of the Moon. We are quite certain both are connected—as you have most definitely already ascertained. Unfortunately, we do not know who is behind these attacks, but we do have some idea as to what they are searching for."

Jace leaned forward on his cushion, his eyes intent on the Queen. Clary sucked in a breath and held it.

"They are searching for "the best of the best" in each species. Warriors. The strongest and most vital. What they want from them is also unknown but knowing what I do of you, I know you are aware of who they may seek out." Her eyes moved to Magnus first. "Because of your possession and knowledge of the Book of the White, you are now a Warlock of great power—greater than you need be. You are the most obvious target because of this. What I do not know is if you would be targeted for the book, or for the power you have gained from using it." She turned her icy stare to Simon. "It is obvious why you would be the one sought out as I am sure you are already aware. Being the only Night Child able to withstand sunlight makes you powerful and also a great threat. Unfortunately, with the Mark that graces your forehead, you are virtually untouchable—not that the Fey seek to harm you. Seeing as you have already been targeted once, it stands to reason whoever is behind this will try again. Maybe it is to learn what causes your affliction, or maybe it is something else. We cannot be sure."

Her eyes traveled over Clary and Jace. A hauntingly beautiful smile transformed her face. "You two. Together at last, I see. I knew it was inevitable."

Clary felt Jace tense at her side but he did not speak.

"While Clarissa's rune ability is no doubt impressive, I do not believe it is of use to whoever is behind this." She settled on Jace. "But you, you are unlike any Nephilim to walk before you. Yes, you both have the blood of the Angel, but there is something else beyond that, and you bear the Mark to prove it."

Clary's eyes widened and she turned to Jace. His face looked just as confused as she felt. "I'm sorry, but I think you are mistaken. I don't know—"

"Yes, you do."

Jace turned to Clary, his mouth open slightly and his brows furrowed. He had no idea what the Queen was talking about. A strange feeling built in Clary's chest. Something that Jace had said in passing just after leaving Alicante. She struggled to pull up the conversation, but it was like something stood guard around the memory not allowing her access.

"I'm sorry, I don't."

The Queen sighed. "Human memory is a fickle thing. I am not allowed to speak of such things aloud, but once you recall what memory you have lost this will all make sense and you will know what it is that makes you so different, so significant." The Queen stood as if to leave. Jace climbed to his feet, pulling Clary along with him. The others stood as well. The Queen came very close to them and reached out to lay a hand on Jace's shoulder, her gaze following her own arm before rising to his eyes. "You must remember. It is imperative that you do. So far, no one knows the abilities you possess. Not even you, not yet. But soon, soon you will and then so will they."

"Can't you even give me a hint?"

"You have already been told everything you need to know. You just need to remember what that was."

Clary felt the frustration rolling off from Jace, his grip on her hand tightening unconsciously. She squeezed back in support.

The Queen moved to turn away and then paused, studying Jace strangely. "Something is . . . different."

Jace stiffened. "I don't know what you mean."

She grinned. "Oh, but I think you do. Vampire," she snapped her head toward Simon, "come."

Simon's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open, but he obeyed and came to stand next to the Queen.

"Do you sense it vampire? Do you still want him?"

A squeak escaped from Simon's throat. "Wa—want him?"

"I knew it. I knew you wanted me," Jace said.

"N—no! I—I don't—"

"His blood," the Queen said impatiently. "Do you still want his blood? Does it call to you as it did before?"

Simon's cheeks flushed an angry pink. Clary still thought it weird to see a vampire blush. Simon glanced up at the Queen, his face a confused slate.

"Well," she swept her hand from Simon to Jace, "go on."

Simon glanced at Jace and Jace flashed him a look that said, "whatever". Simon stepped forward until he stood just in front of Jace, leaned in and took in a deep breath. His eyes widened and he pulled back. "No. It's gone."

"So does this mean you won't be salivating over me anymore? Pity."

"Hmm," the Queen said. "Whatever you did seems to have worked."

"I haven't done anything," Jace said.

Clary gripped his hand tighter. The Queen's eyes darted down to their clasped hands and then met Clary's eyes. "Yes. I suppose _you_ didn't."

Jace removed his hand from Clary's and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer to him. Clary swallowed hard and leaned into him. The Queen's piercing blue eyes never left hers.

"What about the lycanthropes and the Fey?" Alec's voice sounded from behind the Queen.

The Queen kept studying Clary as she spoke. "I have met with the leader of the Children of the Moon for this region, Lucian Graymark. He is aware of the situation. As for us, well, we take care of our own."

"I don't mean to be disrespectful, my lady," Jace began. "But, why have you given us this information."

"Maybe I just thought you ought to know." Her gaze left Clary's and met Jace's. Clary finally felt as though she could breathe properly.

Jace raised his brows.

The Queen smiled and turned back to her cushion. Her entourage followed close behind her. She sat and looked back at them again. "Or, maybe I hoped that if I helped you now, you may be obliged to offer your assistance to me later."

"So, you did this to make us indebted to you?"

"No," the Queen said slowly. "No debt is owed. I like to think of it more in terms of acting in faith or friendship."

Jace said nothing.

"Basille," she said and the tall silver haired faerie guard appeared at the door.

"Yes, my Queen."

"Please escort our guests out. We are finished."

Basille bowed and swept his arm in front of him, indicating the others should follow.

Jace tightened his grip on Clary's shoulder as they hurried after the guard, relieved to finally be leaving the Seelie Court behind. Basille led them through the various rooms. Music flooded their ears and scents intoxicated their senses, but none of them paused or even turned to look. When they reached the carved out dirt pathway, Basille stepped up to a knot of roots near where they had entered Faerie. He rubbed his hand along the knot, pushing in the center. Clary heard a cracking above them as various roots broke free from the ceiling and stretched down, wrapping themselves around each of their waists. She felt a tug and found herself rising quickly toward the hard, impacted ceiling. Just as it would seem she was going to hit her head, she broke free from the surface of Turtle Pond. The park lay just as quiet and serene as before. Empty and undisturbed except for the five sopping wet figures and one amazingly dry Warlock emerging from the glassy topped water.

###

Relief washed over Clary as the Institute came into sight. The cold from the pond had seeped through her clothes into her skin and she swore it was now infused in her DNA. She'd never felt so cold in her life.

Alec and Isabelle mounted the steps in front of them, racing to see who could reach the doors first. Isabelle won. Clary was amazed given the seven inch heels Isabelle wore.

She snuggled closer into Jace's side as they climbed the stairs after them. A warm blast of air rushed over her, causing her to sigh as they entered the building. She flexed her fingers, pushing her warming blood through her veins. Standing near the elevator was Maryse. Her face fixed in the same severe scowl as always.

Jace filled her in of everything they'd learned at the Seelie Court. She nodded and assured him she'd speak with Mr. Lightwood and send a message to the Clave. She did not seem as concerned as Clary thought she might be given her son was most likely a target of whoever was behind the attacks. Maybe she was and she just didn't show it. She didn't know the woman well enough to speculate.

They climbed into the elevator and rode up in silence. When the doors opened, Alec and Isabelle rushed out, moving quickly down the hall to their rooms. Jace and Clary made to follow when Maryse grabbed Jace's arm. He glanced back at her.

"I want to talk to the two of you." Her eyes moved between him and Clary. "Change into dry clothes and meet me in the library in ten minutes."

He raised his brows and watched as she made her way down the hall.

Clary turned to him. "What could she want to talk to us about?" Her hands trembled, but not from the cold this time.

"I have no idea." He grabbed her hand. "Come on. We had better not be late. She's got that 'on the warpath' look."

Clary gulped. "Really?"

Jace chuckled. "Calm down. She's not really that scary."

"Yes she is. You just don't think so 'cause she's your mom."

They stopped in front of Clary's door and he leaned down to kiss her forehead. "Don't worry." He pulled away and started off to his own room. "See you in ten." He winked.

Clary closed her eyes and took a deep breath before going in. She closed the door and leaned against it. What could Maryse want to talk to them about? Did she know Clary had slept in his room the other night? She hoped not, but if that was it she'd just explain her dream and the rune and everything would be fine. Right?

She pushed away from the door and quickly stripped off her wet clothes, throwing them into the tub in the bathroom. Pulling on new underclothes, a training tank and a pair of normal yoga pants, she stepped in front of her mirror. Yep, she looked like a drowned rodent. She pulled a brush through her hair and even before she finished, the damp red locks were curling up. Sometimes she liked the curls and sometimes she longed for straight hair like Isabelle's. Tonight she liked how they looked. They seemed to frame her face in just the right way, accentuating some of her better features like her light skin and bright green eyes. If only her stupid freckles would go away she might actually like how she looked.

Sighing, she put the brush down and made her way out the door. Jace stood against his own door down the hall, waiting for her. He wore his normal lounge pants and white t-shirt. She walked up to him, taking his hand.

"You really have no idea what this could be about?" she asked him.

"None." He glanced down at her and smiled. "Stop worrying. As far as I know we haven't done anything wrong—have we?"

She shrugged and shook her head. "Not that I know of."

He paused in front of the library doors. "Then stop looking like you just saw an army of demons charging toward us." Leaning down, he placed a soft kiss to her lips.

"Honestly, I think Maryse is scarier than even that."

He laughed and pushed against the handle, shoving her inside before him. Maryse stood facing the fireplace, her arms crossed over her chest and her face deep in thought. She'd started a fire in the fireplace which gave the entire room a warm red glow.

"You wanted to see us?" Jace asked as he led Clary toward Maryse.

She turned and looked at them, her expression softening slightly.

"Yes. Why don't you two sit down." She motioned to the couch.

Clary's stomach clenched as she made her way over to it and sat beside Jace. She held herself straight and stiff, while Jace relaxed into the cushions.

Maryse walked out to stand in front of the desk, ringing her hands in front of her. She looked nervous Clary realized with a jolt.

"Mom—" Jace started but Maryse held out her hand to stop him.

"Just give me a minute, Jace. This isn't easy for me."

Clary reached over and grabbed Jace's hand, her heart pounding sharply in her chest.

Maryse took a deep breath and then focused on the two of them. She reached behind her and grabbed something off the desk, shoved it into her pocket, and walked over to them, sitting in the chair directly across from the couch. She raised her eyes to theirs.

"Look. I know you two have been through a lot in the last couple of months. I can't imagine all you've had to endure and at such a young age, too."

Clary's muscles started to relax a little bit.

"You two deserve to be happy and it pleases me to see that you are, but—"

Clary tightened up again.

Maryse took in another deep breath and looked at the ceiling before returning her gaze to them. "Jocelyn and I had a talk and, well, we thought this might be easier coming from me seeing as Clary is still a bit upset with her mother."

Clary's pulse raced.

"It's very obvious to all of us that you two love each other and that things are—progressing between the two of you."

_Oh, God! _Clary felt Jace flinch beside her.

"And well, we thought maybe it was time we sit you down and talk to you about—about a few things."

Jace sat forward, his face completely calm, though Clary could feel his stress in his grip on her hand. "Mom, are you trying to talk to us about sex?"

Maryse's eyes widened.

Jace continued without waiting for a response. "Because remember, you've already gone through this with me and I'm sure Clary's mom has with her, right?" He turned to Clary.

She knew her face had to be the color of a beet and her throat had tightened so much she couldn't get a sound out. She nodded her head in response.

Maryse smiled. "I know, and Jocelyn did tell me that." Her gaze moved momentarily to Clary and then back to Jace. "But we both agreed on the point that neither of you have ever been this serious about anyone before, and while we don't know for sure what your pasts have been like, we do know what is probably inevitable in the future—or," she glanced down at her hands and then back up, "the present."

"No, we're not—we haven't—"

Maryse held her hand up in front of her. "Jace, I don't need to know. Just—" She reached into her pocket and pulled out whatever it was she'd picked up from the desk. She held her hand clenched in her lap for a moment before she thrust her fist out to Jace. "Be prepared." She loosened her grasp and from her fingers rolled a strip of perforated packages.

Clary gasped and raised her hand to cover her mouth. Jace's eyes widened and his mouth fell open.

"Mom—"

Maryse stared to the side, refusing to meet either of their gazes. "Just take them, son. It will make all of us a little more comfortable with all of this if we know you're being safe."

Clary's eyes were glued to the colorful packages. She wanted to look away. She wanted to look away so badly and erase the memory of this moment from her mind forever. But the little square packages held her eyes right there, refusing to release her from their entrancing grasp.

"But—"

Maryse closed her eyes and whispered, "Just take them, Jace."

After a moment, he leaned forward and slowly plucked the strip from Maryse's fingers, shoving it under his leg.

Maryse let out a breath and stood. "I—I should be going. Your father is waiting for me. I'll see you both tomorrow." She refused to meet their eyes before turning and calling "Goodnight" over her shoulder. Pushing against the handle of the doors, she barreled out into the hall, leaving Clary and Jace dumbfounded and speechless behind her.


	10. Chapter 10

****The characters of The Mortal Instruments are owned by Cassandra Clare. The original content, ideas and intellectual property of this story are owned by ddpjclaf, 2009. Please do not copy, reproduce, or translate without express written permission.****

_Flufferific_

_Chapter Song:_

_Breathe by Anna Nalick (End—Jace and Clary)_

_

* * *

_

Clary sat on her bed, turning one of the small, square packs in her fingers. It crinkled under her touch and she could feel the stiff ring through the thick paper outer. It was such a little thing, only a couple inches square, but the meaning behind it was monumental. Her mother, and Jace's, thought they were already to a point in their relationship where they needed to have "the talk" with them and give them things to be "safe." It wasn't that the idea of it wasn't on her mind all the time, and it wasn't like they hadn't already gotten very close. It was just the fact that it was obvious enough to everyone else that they'd felt the need to step in that mortified Clary.

Sure, she and Isabelle had joked about it in the past, but they'd never actually sat down and _talked_ about it. It was private, between her and Jace, and she hadn't really wanted to talk to anyone about it but him—at least not until they'd had a chance to actually have a real discussion. But the problem was, she was vastly inexperienced. Jace had been her first everything. She'd kissed Simon, but not until after she'd already kissed Jace. He was the first boy who'd touched her, the first one who'd seen any part of her that wasn't normally visible to everyone else. She knew she wanted to go further with him, but she was scared out of her mind.

Leaning her head back against the headboard, she let out a slow breath, still twirling the package between her fingers. A knock sounded at her door and without thinking she called out, "Come in."

The door opened and Isabelle peeked her head in. "Hey—you all right?"

"Yeah."

Isabelle stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. "You don't look it." She sat down beside her. "What hap—what is that?" Isabelle's eyes grew wide as she stared down at Clary's hands.

Clary glanced down at the small red package, sighed, and held it out to Isabelle. She took it then looked up at Clary, shock very evident on her face. "Does this mean what I think it does?"

Clary shrugged, not really knowing what anything meant right then.

"Wow, Clary." Isabelle lowered her eyes to the package again. "Are you ready for this?"

She raised her hands to her face. "Yes. No. I don't know." She lowered her hands and they smacked against her legs. "I'm confused."

Isabelle sat up straighter, her face very serious. "He's not pressuring you is he? Because if he is, I will go and kick his ass right now."

Clary shook her head. "No, we really haven't even talked about it yet. I mean, that day you—well, you know. That was just kind of—I don't even know what that was. I feel stupid talking about this."

"Why?"

"I don't know, I guess because it's private." She gave Isabelle a small smile.

"You don't have to talk to me about this, Clary. But you do need to talk to Jace. If you're scared or—not ready, you need to tell him. He'd never want to do anything to make you uncomfortable, I know that."

Clary's cheeks grew hot and she realized that she really did want to talk to Isabelle. She needed to talk to a girl first—before she could talk to Jace. She met Isabelle's eyes. "It's not that I don't want to, or even that I'm not ready. It's just that I'm—I'm—"

"Scared?"

Clary nodded.

Isabelle scooted over and wrapped her arm around Clary's shoulders. "Everyone's scared their first time."

"Really?" Clary looked up at her.

"Really. I was."

Clary laughed. "I find that hard to believe."

"I know. Crazy, huh? I may not be scared of much by way of monsters and demons, but when it comes to putting myself out there—well, I'm just as scared as anyone else. This is a big deal and I think I'd be really worried if you weren't scared."

"I just feel so stupid. I mean, I don't know _anything_."

"Nobody knows anything, Clary."

"Jace does," Clary said, her voice almost a whisper. "We both know that."

Isabelle sighed. "Has he talked to you about that?"

Clary shook her head. "Not really. I mean, enough so that I know it won't be his first time, but I really haven't asked him about it, and—I'm not really sure I want to know."

"Look, I bet he's just as nervous as you. Even if this isn't his first time, it's still his first time with you. He loves you, Clary, and that makes this different for him, too."

Clary fidgeted with her hands.

"What?"

She fidgeted some more.

"What is it?"

She let out a breath. "Well, I was wondering something."

"Okay."

"Well, I was—I was wondering—"

"Spit it out, Clary."

Clary's cheeks burned hotter than she could ever remember them feeling before. "Does it—does it—hurt?"

"Oh. Well . . ."

Clary raised her eyes to Isabelle's.

Isabelle lowered her gaze to her hands. "Yeah, it does the first time."

"A lot?"

Isabelle raised her head and focused her attention on the bathroom door. "Enough," she said, and then turned back to Clary. "But it was different for me."

"How so?"

"I wasn't in love with my first. You are." She placed her hand on Clary's. "Which is going to make a big difference from what I experienced."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, for one thing, because he loves you he's going to be very concerned about hurting you. Not like the jerk I was with." She shuddered at the memory. "While the physical pain won't be all that different, I have a feeling that the emotional connection will overshadow that. I can't tell you that for positive because I've never been in love with anyone before. I'm just guessing."

"But I don't have any idea what to do. I mean, like, none."

"Clary, you don't have to. It's not about knowing what to do. There is no right or wrong way. Trust me."

"But he knows what to expect. He knows what to do."

Isabelle shrugged. "Then let him lead you. Though I really think you won't need it."

"What makes you say that?"

"Well, the other day—and I'm trying very hard not to remember any details from that—but what did you feel then? Were you scared? Were you nervous?"

Clary frowned and thought back to that day. "No." She met Isabelle's eyes. "I wasn't scared at all. I just remember thinking that it was right. It felt—natural."

Isabelle grinned. "See? You'll be fine. When it's the right time, it'll feel like the right time. If you feel too scared or too nervous, it's not the right time. Trust yourself and you'll be on the right track."

Clary threw her arms around Isabelle's neck and hugged her. "Thank you. I'm really glad I talked to you."

"Anytime," Isabelle ran her hand along Clary's back. "Except—I really don't want to hear any details okay? He's still my brother."

Clary laughed. "Don't worry. I'll keep those to myself."

"Thank God," Isabelle said.

###

The lights of the city lit the night like a thousand burning stars dotting the landscape as far as the eye could see. Jace stood near the glass wall of the greenhouse rolling a leaf between his fingers, releasing more of its spicy scent into the air. Even though he looked out to the city below, the view wasn't what he saw. His mind was on the Seelie Court and the things the Queen had said. _There is something else beyond that, and you bear the Mark to prove it. _What mark? Jace had many Marks, and most of which he'd applied himself so he had no idea what she'd meant. He knew he was different, he always had been. He just figured it had been his father's—Valentine's—training, and then later after he'd found out, the extra angel blood he'd received. What else could there be?

"I thought you might be here." Clary's voice sounded from behind him.

He turned and she stood there, gazing up at him, her fiery hair wild around her head and grazing her nearly bare shoulders. She wore the same white tank top and blue yoga pants she'd had on earlier. Faint scars on her arms from the few runes she'd worn in the past seemed to glow in the moonlight. He didn't realize he was staring or that he hadn't said anything until she spoke again.

"Are you all right?"

He blinked a few times before answering. "Yeah. Sorry. I was just thinking."

"Oh." Her eyes grew wide. "Do you want to be alone?"

He grinned. "No. I never want to be alone when I can be with you." He reached out and pulled her to his side. Her hair brushed up against his arm, tickling his bare skin. He turned back to the window and stared down at the city lights once again.

She leaned her head against him and asked, "What are you thinking about?"

"The Seelie Queen."

He felt her shift and look up to him.

He smiled but didn't glance back down at her. "About what she said. I have no idea what she meant."

"Oh." Clary relaxed back into him. "Me either. I mean, it feels like I know, but I just can't remember. When she was talking I kept having this flash of us talking in Alicante after the battle, but I couldn't hear what we were saying. I keep feeling like it's a clue, that maybe it's so obvious but for some reason we're blocking it out."

He looked at her then. "That's exactly what I've been feeling. Like I _should_ know, but I just don't. It's driving me insane."

Clary nodded, her eyes intent on the scenery outside. She raised her hands to her arms, shivered, and rubbed her skin.

"Are you cold?"

"A little. I should have put more on before coming up here." She glanced up and smiled.

He removed his arm from her and reached up to the collar of his t-shirt. "Here, you can have my shirt."

"No, you don't have to—"

But he already had it off and was handing it to her. "It's all right. I have a tank top under it—you were right, I always do." He smiled.

She grinned back. "See, I do know you." Taking it, she slipped her tiny hands through the arms and pulled the shirt over her head. It was huge on her, hanging down to the middle of her thighs. Jace couldn't help but feel a jolt at seeing her in his shirt. He liked it, liked taking care of her in a way so simple as to keep her warm. "You let me know if you need it back, you know, if you get cold."

He laughed. "I'm fine, Clary. Men don't get cold."

She glanced up at him, her face fixed into a disbelieving expression and then her eyes fell to his shoulder. Her expression changed and a line formed between her brows.

He looked down, trying to see what might have caught her attention, but everything looked exactly the same as normal.

She reached up and ran her finger over the star shaped scar. "Jace, didn't you tell me something about this in Alicante, about it not really being a scar after all?"

"Yeah. Amatis told me it was a birthmark and that my father had one too—on his arm."

"Didn't she tell you something about it?"

He furrowed his brow trying to remember, and then it hit him. He raised his eyes to Clary's, hers were wide and knowing. "She said there was a story passed down through my family about one of the first Herondale Shadowhunters. That he had been visited by an angel in a dream and that—you don't think—" he pointed to the mark, "that this is what the Seelie Queen meant by my being already marked, do you?"

Clary ran her fingers over the flat white star once again before meeting his gaze. "I don't know what else she could have meant—unless you have other marks I don't know about." She raised a brow.

He gave her a look and then shook his head. "No." Letting out a slow breath, he focused on the city lights once again. "Amatis said that the Herondales thought this mark meant they'd been touched by an angel and that—that whoever bore the mark meant they were blessed in some way." He turned to her. "Do you think it was more than just a story? That it could really be true?"

She stared at him. "I don't know, but after what the Queen said—it has to be."

"I still don't know what that means. If it is true—blessed how? That still doesn't help me much. I don't know how that makes me any different from any other Shadowhunter. I mean, we all have angel blood and are all blessed by the angel. And Stephen—my—my father—he wasn't anyone special. At least, I don't think he was."

"But, you are special, Jace." She stepped in front of him and wrapped her arms around his waist. "We're both different from other Shadowhunters just because of what Valentine did to us, but you—you're even more than that. The things you can do . . . you're an exceptional fighter and what your blood did for Simon—those things are extraordinary."

"There are a lot of exceptional Shadowhunters when it comes to fighting."

"That's true, but none as much as you." She met his eyes. "Of course, you know this. You've made sure to tell me and everyone else more times than I can count."

He laughed. "I was just being an ass."

"Very true," she said as she stretched up and placed her lips against his.

Jace moved his hands from her back to her face and held her to him, returning her kiss. She tasted sweet, like strawberries or some other kind of berry, he couldn't be sure. When he pulled back, she kept her eyes closed, drew her lower lip between her teeth and sighed. The sound sent a jolt through his body.

"Jace," she whispered his name, making his skin prickle. "We should talk about earlier."

He lowered his lips to her face and ran them along her jawbone. "I thought we just were."

Her breath hitched and he smiled against her skin. He loved the way she reacted to him. The way her breath caught at the smallest of gestures and the way she sighed with each kiss. How fragile she felt in his arms and how much he wanted to hold her there forever, protecting her from anything that may try to harm her. And he loved how he reacted to her. How his name on her lips made his heart thud harder in his chest than anything else. The way her soft, delicate hands on his rough, hard skin made every nerve in his body come alive and ache for more.

"No, not about the Seelie Queen and what she said. I mean—after that," she said.

"Okay." He moved down her neck, placing small, soft kisses all the way until he reached her collar bone.

"Jace," she whispered again, her breath shallow and quicker than before. "Stop. Please."

"Why?" he asked into the skin of her neck.

"Be—because I—I can't think when you do that and—and I want to talk to you."

Fighting against the very large part of him that didn't want to stop, he pulled away from her and focused on her face. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes shone with a light he wasn't quite familiar with. "Okay, what do you want to talk about?"

Clary unwrapped her arms from his waist and stepped back, raising one hand to her face touching the back of it to her cheek almost as if she were checking her temperature. She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly through the small "o" shape she made in her lips. "I'm sorry." She looked up at him apologetically. "I'm a little nervous."

He glanced at her, studying the way she was clasping and unclasping her hands in front of her, the scarlet circles growing darker on her cheeks, and it finally dawned on him what she wanted to talk about. "You want to talk about what happened with Maryse?"

She lowered her gaze to the floor and nodded her head.

He wanted to reach out to her, but he thought maybe she didn't want him to touch her right then. "Look, I'm sorry if she embarrassed you. It was a little mortifying to hear it from her, but I think she—they—were trying to be supportive. In a very disturbing way."

She laughed quietly before meeting his eyes again. "I'm not embarrassed—well, I _was_, but I'm not now. I think we should talk about it, don't you?"

"If you want. I'll talk about whatever you want."

She hesitated. "Maybe we should sit."

"Okay." He took her hand and led her to the same spot, in front of the midnight blooming bush, that they'd sat the night of their first kiss.

Clary closed her eyes, drew in a deep breath, and then opened them again. "I know we've gotten a little—carried away before and that I said some things—which I meant, I meant every single word. But, you know that I'm not—experienced."

He nodded, keeping his eyes fixed on hers.

Her voice was very quiet, almost a whisper. "And I know that you are." She closed her eyes for a second. "I promise you that that doesn't bother me. I know you had a life before me and I'm not stupid enough to think it didn't involve other girls. It's just that I'm—" She took in and released a short breath. "Well, I'm a little scared."

He wanted to reach out to her, but still he held back. "Of what?"

"Lots of things."

"You know it's not a requirement, Clary. I mean, we can wait—for as long as you want—"

"But I don't want to wait."

It was Jace's turn for his breath to catch.

She looked down. "What I mean is, I'm ready. I just wanted to let you know how I was feeling so that when that moment came," she looked at him again, "you wouldn't be wondering if I was ready and how I felt. If I tell you now, neither of us will have to question anything and we can just let it happen."

He swallowed and was sure that if he tried to speak he wouldn't be able to. She scooted closer to him and rose up on her knees, placing her hands on his face. "I'm scared because I don't know what I'm doing. I'm scared because I'm afraid it will hurt. I'm scared because—because I'm afraid I'll disappoint you."

He raised his hands and placed them over hers. "Listen to me. No matter what—no matter how inexperienced you might be—you could never disappoint me. I know I've told you that, please just believe me. And for the record, don't you think I'm afraid of the same thing?"

"No, you're Jace Lightwood, you're not afraid of anything."

"I'm afraid of you. Afraid of what you make me feel. Afraid of how _much_ I feel. You think I'm so good at everything, but what if I'm not, Clary? What if _I_ disappoint _you_?"

"I have no expectations of how this is supposed to work, Jace. There's nothing you could do to disappoint me."

He chuckled. "You give me way too much credit. But I do appreciate your faith in me." The smile slipped from his lips. "As far as hurting you goes—I—I've heard it does, but I _promise_ you I'll do everything I can to make it not hurt so much. But I—I'll need your help because—I've never been anyone's first before."

Her eyes widened. "You haven't?"

He shook his head.

A huge smile stretched over her face. "So, that means I get to be your first first?"

He couldn't help but grin. "I guess so."

She lunged forward and wrapped her arms around his neck. He tucked his around her back and held her close to him. "That makes me feel so much better!" she said.

"Why?"

"Because then I know I won't be the only one doing something new."

"It would have been new for me anyway."

She pulled away and met his eyes. "What do you mean?"

He stared back at her. "Because I never loved anyone before you. That has to make a big difference, right?"

Her eyes shone and tears spilled over her cheeks. "Yes, I think it does."

He reached forward and wiped her tears away with his thumbs. "So, do you feel better now?"

"Yes. A lot. And thank you."

"For what?"

"For not being a smartass about all this."

"I would never do that. I do know how to be serious every once and awhile."

"I know." She raised her hands to his face, leaned forward, and kissed him again just as a distant chime tolled, signaling the end of one day and the beginning of another. As the bell struck a twelfth time, the bush beside them exploded into tiny yellow flowers, dusting them both with pale gold pollen as soft as powder.


	11. Chapter 11

****The characters of The Mortal Instruments are owned by Cassandra Clare. The original content, ideas and intellectual property of this story are owned by ddpjclaf, 2009. Please do not copy, reproduce, or translate without express written permission.****

"Come on, Jace. It's just Pandemonium. I used to go there all the time before I met you." Clary stood in front of the training room door, her arms crossed over her chest.

"I said no, Clary. I promised your mom that you wouldn't go hunting until you were properly trained."

"But I'm getting better! Look at how much I've improved at throwing daggers."

He nodded. "Yes, you almost hit the target instead of the wall three times today."

She narrowed her eyes. "Your inner jerk is showing."

"I don't care. You're not hunting with us."

Clary let out an exasperated breath. She hated when he acted all "in charge." "Can't we at least compromise?"

He crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked at her skeptically. "What kind of compromise?"

She relaxed her stance and walked over to him, placing one hand to his chest. "Let me go with you." She raised her hand when he started to protest. "And, I'll stay out of the way—just observe. It would be good for me to watch."

"You've been with us before and I'm sure you saw enough then."

"But I've never really _seen_ you hunt. Not when I was actually trying to learn something. You can think of it as furthering my training. Plus," she grinned and walked two fingers up his chest, "I think watching you work would be a huge turn on."

He looked at her with disbelief. "Have you no shame? You're such a manipulator—are you sure you're not part succubus? You've seen me work plenty of times."

She leaned into him. "Yeah, but I never actually stopped to take in the beauty of it."

He pursed his lips in an effort to disguise his smile. He failed. "You're relentless, you know that?"

"Come on. You know I'll be good." She bounced on her toes. "Please?"

"Clary—" He sighed, raised his hands to cup her face and touched his forehead to hers. "Okay, but," he said, just as she stiffened in excitement, "please," he drew out the word, "please don't do anything stupid and just stay in the shadows. You know if this was anything but a routine sweep there's no way I'd let you go."

"I know, and I promise. I'll be a shadow." She reached up and wrapped her fingers around his wrists, holding his hands prisoner against her face.

"You better be." He leaned in and kissed her. Not a soft brush of the lips or a little peck, but one of those kisses Clary felt all the way down to her toes, stole her breath, and turned her knees to jello. Her body fell limp against him as her mind emptied of everything else except what he was doing to her.

When he pulled away, she struggled to catch her breath. "Good God, Jace. How do you _do_ that?" She shivered.

He smiled. "It's a trade secret and I'm not about to divulge the specifics of my greatest weapon to you."

"Well, if you're not going to share, you could at least do it again."

Jace pursed his lips and looked up like he was thinking hard. He returned his gaze to her and leaned down until his lips almost touched hers. She closed her eyes in anticipation when he suddenly pulled away and said, "Nah."

Clary's eyes flew open as he walked by her to the door. "Wh—what?"

He turned around, one brow raised. "If it's going to maintain its potency, I need to be careful how often I expose you. Only one super secret-weapon kiss a day."

"That's not fair."

He shrugged and grinned. "No one said life is fair." He turned away with a wink and pushed open the door.

"Tease!" Clary called to his back.

His laugh floated in from the hallway until the door closed blocking him completely from her view.

###

The knife sheathed in her boot made walking difficult for Clary. Isabelle had insisted she wear a pair of tight black leather pants and a matching stretchy halter top. She argued that she was there to watch and she didn't need to dress up. Isabelle brushed her comment away and continued to stare at her until she put the clothing on. Since everything clung to her like saran wrap she had to settle for stashing her weapon in her boot—not her first choice.

Jace had given her a "look" when she'd emerged from her room. She immediately pointed at Isabelle. Jace turned his scowl on her, to which Isabelle shrugged and said, "You can thank me later."

Pandemonium looked exactly the same as it always did. Bodies crowded onto the dance floor, grinding and swaying to music too loud for anyone to really hear. Lights swirled over the floor, coloring everything in unnatural shades.

Clary felt Jace at her side and Isabelle and Alec behind her. They all donned invisibility until they knew for sure what they were dealing with—if anything. Jace leaned in to her and spoke in her ear. "Okay, what do you see?"

Clary looked around starting near the entrance. "Vampires at seven 'o clock. A couple of werewolves at eleven o'clock. And, a demon at three o'clock."

"Good," he said.

"Ooh! It's a she-demon. Awesome, I'm off the bait hook!" Isabelle said.

"That means you're on." Alec slapped Jace's back.

"What?" Clary turned from Alec to Jace.

Isabelle smiled. "Jace is always the bait for females."

"Why not Alec?" Clary asked, not liking the idea at all.

Isabelle laughed. "Alec? Trying to lure a girl? Please."

"Hey!" Alec said.

"Oh, come on. You know you can't flirt with a girl to save your life."

Alec gave Isabelle a dirty look and then turned away.

Jace grabbed Clary by the shoulders and met her eyes. "Don't worry. It's not a big deal. It'll only take a few minutes." He leaned down and kissed her cheek. "See you in a few."

Clary watched as Jace slipped in behind a guy heading into the men's room. She knew he would emerge fully visible to all in the club.

"Yeah, don't worry, Clary. Jace is good at this. She'll be after him in a minute," Isabelle said as she bounced to the music.

Clary swallowed, not wanting to acknowledge the kernel of possessiveness she felt in her gut. She knew what this entailed. Jace getting all up close and personal with a demon. Even though she knew it was an act, it would still be hard to watch.

As if she could sense Clary's unease, Isabelle leaned down and whispered in her ear. "You don't have to watch if it bothers you."

"No." Clary shook her head and lied. "I'm fine." She turned to Isabelle and saw her disbelieving expression. "Really."

"Okay," Isabelle said, continuing to sway to the music.

Alec stood up straighter as Jace exited the men's room. He'd dressed in black jeans, boots, and a black long sleeved shirt that covered his marks. It was easy to follow his progression in the demon's direction by the way the lights shone off his golden hair. Clary's stomach clenched as he walked past the she-demon and sat a couple seats down from her at the bar. She saw the girl's head shift in his direction.

Isabelle leaned down and said. "Three . . . two . . . one." And the girl rose from her seat, making her way over to Jace.

She slid into the seat next to him, scooted it closer, and leaned over to engage him. He leaned forward on his elbows and cocked his head to the side, flashing her one of his winning smiles. Clary's heart beat so hard against her ribs she was surprised it didn't burst through her chest. The demon reached over and ran a bright pink tipped finger through a stray curl at the side of his face, lingering at his cheek. Clary tensed.

Isabelle placed her hand on Clary's shoulder. "Easy, girl. It'll be over soon."

Jace leaned forward, swept aside the demon's long blond hair, and whispered something in her ear. The girl smiled. Clary shivered remembering how it felt to have his breath brush her ear. He pulled away and stood, running his finger down the demon's arm and walking away. Flashing them a look, he headed toward the storage room. The demon girl had risen and was following him through the crowd.

"Here we go," Alec said. "Clary, stay behind us."

Clary nodded, unable to speak through the jealous lump in her throat. She didn't know why she reacted that way. She knew he was hers—but that was just it, he was _hers_. Hers. The word sounded strange even in her mind. To think that someone else, a living breathing person could belong to another, was a strange concept. But it was true. He'd told her that he'd belonged to her from the first moment he saw her, and if she was honest about it, so had she. So, why did the infectious pebble of jealousy keep popping up? Clary shook her head, clearing the thought from her mind. She knew it was ridiculous.

Up ahead, the demon disappeared into the storage room behind Jace. Alec was through the door a few second later, then Isabelle, and then Clary. She hung back against the wall, staying in the shadows like she promised. The demon-girl was already on the ground at Jace's feet, her eyes focused on him in pure hatred.

"I should have known someone that pretty was part angel!" she spat.

"Sorry to disappoint," Jace said. "It's the smile that's deceiving isn't it? I've heard it's quite devilish."

The demon hissed at him.

"Now, is that really necessary? We were having such a scintillating conversation at the bar."

"Jace, quit screwing around," Isabelle said.

"Jace . . ." the girl said. "So you're the Angel boy? I should have known."

Jace took in a deep breath. "Angel boy," he said as if he was thinking it over. "No. I don't think I like that. It makes me sound like a sissy."

"I heard there were two of you—another, a girl. Is she here, too?"

Clary tensed as she saw Jace's eyes flash. His hand shot out and caught the demon around the neck, lifting her off her feet. Clary gasped, drawing attention to herself.

The demon-girl's eyes shifted to her and a small strained smile spread over her lips. "Well, hello there little Angel girl."

Jace slammed her against the wall.

"Touchy," said the girl. "If I didn't know she was your sister, I'd think you had a thing with her. A little bit of a strong reaction for a brother, don't you think?"

Jace smiled and leaned forward, his face just in front of the demon-girl's. "Didn't you get the memo? She's not my sister." In a flash, his arm whipped to his side and darted forward, plunging a dagger into the girl's heart. With a twist of the hilt, he dropped her to the ground.

"Aw, come on, Jace!" Isabelle pouted. "Where's the fun for us?"

The demon folded up into nothing at Jace's feet. "Sorry," he said. "She was annoying me."

"Well, you could have given me a few swipes with the whip at least. It's been forever since I got a piece."

Alec snickered beside her.

Isabelle turned to him. "Not like that you perv!"

Jace grinned and walked toward Clary.

"What?" Isabelle glared at him as he passed her. "No joke on my behalf?"

He half-turned. "No, I think Alec pretty much covered it with his laughter at the opportune moment. No words need to be spoken—unless your embarrassment is incomplete without my comment. In which case, I'd be happy to oblige."

"I hate you both." Isabelle crossed her arms over her chest and stared at the back wall.

Jace stopped in front of Clary. "So, did you learn anything?"

"Plenty," she said, meeting his gaze.

"Like?"

She let out a slow breath. "Well, for one, I learned that I really don't like my boyfriend playing bait. I'm thinking about tattooing 'Property of Clary so back off' across your forehead while you sleep. And two, how the hell did you lift her off her feet with one hand like that? It didn't even look like you strained at all."

"What are you talking about?"

"She's right," Alec said, joining them. "You just picked her right up with one hand and held her up in the air."

"Shut up," Jace said.

"You did," Clary answered quietly. "You didn't know?"

He shrugged. "Must have been adrenaline."

"Probably." Alec slapped Jace's shoulder. "Whatever it was, it looked pretty cool."

Clary couldn't get rid of the unease she felt in her gut, but before she could respond, her phone rang in her purse. "Crap!" She dropped to the ground and fished through the bag. After a moment, her fingers closed around the vibrating rectangle. She pulled it out, pushed talk and shoved it against her ear. "Hello?"

"Clary?" A weak voice croaked on the other end.

"Hello?" Clary's brows drew together.

"Clary . . ." The voice came again, weaker than before.

"Mom?" she asked, her pulse picking up speed. "Mom?"

Silence.

"Mom!"

She was met by static on the other end. Her phone fell from her fingers and clattered to the floor. Jace was kneeling in front of her, grasping her shoulders, in a second.

"Clary? What is it?" he asked, his golden eyes boring into hers.

She looked up, her mouth hanging slightly open. "It's my mom. Jace, something's wrong. We need to get to her."

He needed no explanation. "Okay." He glanced back at Isabelle and Alec and jerked his head toward the door before grabbing Clary's phone and helping her to her feet. "Let's go."

###

From the outside, Luke's house looked undisturbed. His old truck sat in the same spot it always occupied in the drive. The windows were dark save for the kitchen one in the back. More than anything, Clary wanted to rush in and see what was wrong, but Jace held her back. Pulling out the sensor from his pocket, they walked forward slowly.

He shook his head. "No demonic activity."

Clary let out a slow breath and allowed her muscles to relax.

Jace led the way, holding Clary behind him with one hand. Alec was behind her and Isabelle brought up the back. They walked around to the rear of the house, jumped the fence, and approached the door. Jace indicated for them to stay back while he checked out the porch and peered in the window. After a moment, he beckoned them forward. "So far it looks all right." His eyes met Clary's. "You ready?"

She wasn't, but she nodded anyway.

Jace reached out and turned the knob, pushing the door in. Immediately, they all knew something was wrong. The smell of blood and wet dog permeated the air. Jace stepped over the threshold, keeping hold of Clary's arm to keep her from rushing in. The kitchen looked in perfect order. They cautiously crossed over into the living room where they found stuffing from the couch cushions scattered over the floor, an upturned and splintered wood coffee table, and a smashed TV. Jace flipped on the light switch and along with the obvious mess, deep grooves, like scratch marks, covered the hardwood floor. Streaks of blood led from the living room to the study.

Clary gasped and started forward, but Jace held her back and indicated with his Seraph blade that he'd go first. _When did he take that out?_ She wondered. The four of them creeped slowly toward the study. The smell of blood grew thicker the closer they got. As they approached the doorway, Clary heard a rasping sound coming from inside. Jace tensed at her side and Alec moved in front of her. Isabelle held her back as the two boys entered the room first.

When the light flickered on, Clary let out an involuntary screech. The room had been ransacked just like the living room. Pages of books covered in blood were scattered around the room. Large grooves like the ones in the living room covered the floor and walls. Luke's large wood desk was cracked down the middle and caved in. But that wasn't the worst of it. In the middle of the floor, in front of the desk, lay Jocelyn. Her face obscured by a curtain of auburn hair and three large bloody claw marks stretched from her neck to her pelvis. Her stele lay several feet away as if she'd dropped it in the middle of the attack.

Clary pushed herself between Alec and Jace, rushing to her Mother's side. "Mom!" She pushed Jocelyn's hair away from her face. To her relief, Jocelyn was still alive, barely.

"Clary . . ."

"Mom!" Clary patted her pockets frantically searching for her stele. When she finally found it, her hands shook so badly she dropped it. Through her tears, she ran her hands over the ground searching for it but couldn't find it.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to find Jace. "I got it," he said as he knelt to Jocelyn's side and drew an iratze on her chest. The wounds did nothing. Jace's face pinched. "Demon poison."

"But—you said there were no demons!" Clary cried.

"There weren't . . ." He trailed off.

Clary turned back to Jocelyn, cradled her head in her lap, and bent over, tears falling from her eyes to Jocelyn's face. She was vaguely aware of Alec's voice behind her, it sounded like he was on the phone since no one was talking to him.

"Mom," Clary said. "Who did this? What happened?" She continued to rock back and forth with her mother in her arms.

"Clary . . ." Jocelyn spoke weakly.

"Mom. Who did this?" she asked again. "What happened?"

"Clary . . ." Jocelyn coughed. "Luke . . ." With that, Jocelyn's eyes closed.


	12. Chapter 12

****The characters of The Mortal Instruments are owned by Cassandra Clare. The original content, ideas and intellectual property of this story are owned by ddpjclaf, 2009. Please do not copy, reproduce, or translate without express written permission.****

_Chapter Song:_

_Awake by Secondhand Serenade (End—Jace and Clary)_

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Clary didn't comprehend much after that. She felt the faint sensation of static behind her, and then strong hands pulling her away from her mother. Something bright and sparkly knelt down in the spot she'd occupied and then an intense blue light erupted in her field of vision. She heard voices, some closer to her than others, but none of them made sense. Somewhere deep in the recesses of her mind, she knew she was going into shock but she didn't know how to control it nor did she care.

Figures moved around her, rushing here and there, sometimes kneeling in front of her, their lips moving, eyes concerned. She saw someone lifting something limp in front of her, something with beautiful auburn hair. She knew she should care and that she should be doing something, but she couldn't move. Her arms and legs felt like they were encased in blocks of cement, weighing her down on the ground. Long, silky black strands flitted in front of her face and tickled her nose. Small hands brushed the hair from her face. She didn't even know it was there.

Commotion ensued around her, so much movement, so much noise, it all blended together into an incoherent mass of nothingness. Finally, she felt her body being lifted into strong, familiar arms and hands that, though powerful, were gentle as they held her. Her head leaned against his body. The scent of soap and sunshine swirled around her, relaxing her. She reached up and wrapped her arms around the comforting presence, allowing his warmth to take her over, shelter her, protect her. She closed her eyes and relaxed into him, allowing her mind to let go, to surrender to the blackness threatening to take her.

###

Consciousness pricked at the edges of Clary's mind. She knew she needed to let it take her over but she held back, fearing what awaited her on the other side. But something beckoned her toward that light at the end. Something she knew she wanted more than she wanted oblivion. Slowly, sensations came back to her. She was aware that she was upright, cradled against something—no not some_thing_, some_one_.

The blackness receded and she opened her eyes. It was still dark, illuminated only by the faint light glowing outside the window. She blinked and looked around. She sat in the chair in the corner of her room. Jace still cradled her against him, and for a moment, she wondered why. She turned to ask him, but saw that he was asleep, her arms looped around his neck, her grip tight and strong.

She stared at him for a minute, not wanting to wake him to move, not really wanting to move at all. But knew she needed to go. She needed to check on her mother. As she loosened her grip around his neck, he startled awake.

"I'm sorry. I was trying not to wake you. I just—I need to see my mom."

He raised his hand and ran his fingers down her cheek. "Magnus is with her still. He asked not to be disturbed."

Her heart clenched. "But—but she's my mom." Tears filled her eyes. "She needs me."

He pulled her to him, her head lying against his chest. "I know. God, I know." He rested his lips on her head. "They won't let us into the infirmary, but maybe Maryse will have an update. Are you up to going to see her?"

Clary nodded her head against his chest.

"Okay. Let's—"

She cut him off and looked up. "Jace, have you been holding me all this time?"

He met her gaze. "Yes."

"Why didn't you just lay me down? That couldn't have been comfortable."

"Clary, my comfort was the least of my concerns. Plus, you had a death grip on my neck." He grinned.

"Oh. I'm sorry."

He took her face in his hands. "Don't be sorry. There was no place I would rather be." He leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the tip of her nose. "Are you ready?"

She nodded and scooted off his lap. Her legs felt weak and wobbly beneath her. Jace stood and took her arm to steady her. She wrapped her arm around his waist and leaned into him, using him as a crutch.

The hall was quiet, almost eerily so.

"Where is everyone?" she asked.

"The library. Maryse has been in contact with the Clave since it happened."

"Do—do they know anything?"

He glanced down at her. "I don't know. I've been with you."

"Oh. Right."

They made their way to the library. Jace pushed the doors open and they walked in. His whole family was there, Alec, Isabelle, Maryse, and Robert.

"Clary!" Isabelle bolted from the couch and rushed over to them. "Oh my God, I've been so worried. Are you okay?"

Clary just nodded. She didn't trust herself to speak and not break down.

"Isabelle, let her come in and sit before she collapses," Maryse called.

Isabelle stepped aside and Jace guided her to the couch.

"How are you feeling, dear?" Maryse asked.

Clary glanced up at her. "How is my mother?" She didn't want to talk about how she was. She wanted to know about her mother.

Maryse lowered her head and pushed away from the desk, coming to sit across from Clary and Jace. She raised her head and caught Clary's eyes. "Jocelyn will be okay."

Clary let out a shuddering breath and sank back into Jace. He wrapped his arms around her as her body shook. Maryse reached out and patted her knee. "Magnus is doing a slow healing therapy with her. Whatever demonic poison was used was quite potent and would take a lot of energy to expel. But if it was expelled too quickly it would be too much for her body to endure. Using the Book of the White, Magnus was able to slow its progression enough to slowly expunge it from her body. He is still at it as we speak."

"Can I see her?"

Maryse shook her head. "Not yet. Magnus needs total concentration. He gives us updates during his breaks."

"What about Luke? Do we know anything about what happened to him?"

Maryse's gaze flickered to the floor and then back up to Clary's again.

"Clary, there's something you should know."

Clary gasped and raised her hand to cover her mouth. Jace's embrace tightened.

"We know what it was that attacked your mother."

Clary couldn't speak.

Maryse's eyes met hers. She hesitated. "It was a werewolf, Clary."

Clary shook her head; sure she didn't hear her right. "What?"

"A werewolf."

Clary searched the eyes of everyone there and all but Jace looked positive. Jace just stared out in shock like her.

"The scratches on her chest and in the flooring match werewolf claws."

Clary closed her eyes and shook her head. "But—but Luke's the leader of the pack. No one—no werewolf would challenge him in his own home. They wouldn't hurt my mom."

"Clary. We don't know where Luke is. It's possible—"

It finally dawned on Clary what Maryse was trying to say. She jumped to her feet. "What? You can't be serious!"

Maryse stood and held her hand out. "Calm down, Clary."

"No!" Clary screamed. Maryse snapped back as if she'd been hit. "No. I know what you're trying to say. You think Luke had something to do with this. You think Luke may have done this. But you're wrong. You're _wrong_!"

"Clary." Jace's hands wrapped around her arms.

She shook them off and whirled on him. "You don't seriously believe this, do you Jace? You don't really believe Luke would hurt my mom, do you?"

"Of course I don't—"

Clary whipped back around. "Luke would _never_, ever hurt my mom. He's loved her for twenty years! He—he would never—" Her body shook so violently she almost fell.

Jace pulled her against him, steadying her with his body. "Maryse, you know Luke. Does this really seem like something he would—something he _could_ do?"

Maryse shook her head. "I wouldn't think so, no. But we can't ignore the facts. Jocelyn was attacked by a werewolf. Luke's home was ransacked by a werewolf. We have to take all things into consideration and while we're not outright saying it's Luke, we have to consider him. It would be reckless not to."

"If she was attacked by a werewolf then how do you explain the demon poison in her body?" Clary asked, hurt and anger thick in her voice.

Maryse lifted her hands and then dropped them to her side. "We don't have an answer for that. Not yet. Listen," she sat back down on the edge of her seat, "no one is blaming Luke, not yet. But, please understand, we have to consider all possibilities. The fact that he's missing and that your mother was nearly clawed to death by a werewolf is suspect."

"But if Luke's missing, couldn't that also mean that whoever hurt my mother did something to him too? Shouldn't you be out there looking for him? What if he's out there and hurt?"

"Yes, we're waiting for a few more area Shadowhunters to arrive and then we're going to sweep the city."

Clary turned to Jace. He still looked unsettled by everything they'd heard.

"Jace," Maryse said.

He looked over at her.

She twisted her hands together in front of her. "If—if you feel like you're ready. We could use all the help we can get."

"But—the age limit—"

Maryse stepped forward and touched Jace's shoulder. "I think you've more than proven yourself, son. You'll be of age soon anyway."

Jace glanced down at Clary. As much as she didn't want him to go, she knew he couldn't stand being left behind and that Luke deserved all the help he could get. She turned to him and took his hands in hers, squeezing them as she gave a short nod.

"Okay," he said, his eyes never leaving Clary's.

Maryse patted his arm. "Alright, let's get ready. The others should be here soon. Jace, Alec, we'll be meeting downstairs in twenty minutes. Isabelle, you and Clary get Magnus anything he needs for Jocelyn while we're gone."

"Sure, Mom." Isabelle walked up to Clary and took one of her hands from Jace. "Come on, let's let them get ready."

Reluctant to let go of Jace, Clary clutched his hand harder.

"I'll come by before I go," he said and squeezed her hand.

She nodded and allowed Isabelle to lead her from the library.

Clary headed straight to her room telling, Isabelle she just needed to be alone for a few minutes. She barely made it through the door before the tears started to spill. Leaning up against it she slid down to the floor, placing her head on her knees. She felt like she was losing everyone she loved. First, her mom had been attacked, and then Luke was missing. Now, Jace was going out there, with adult Shadowhunters, to track down Luke and either capture or rescue him. She knew in her heart Luke had nothing to do with what happened to her mom, and one of the big reasons she wanted Jace there was because she knew he believed it to. He would never let anything unjustified happen. Also, he was the best she'd ever seen. Even in Alicante, no one had been more skilled than him. No one had more heart and drive. He was the best, and the best was what Luke deserved.

A knock at the door brought her out of her thoughts. She wiped her face and got up to answer the door. Jace stood there, dressed in full Shadowhunter gear, his weapons belt filled and blades strapped to his back. One look at him and the flood gates opened again. Her tears fell in streams and sobs wracked her body. Jace quickly stepped in the room, pulled her into his arms and kicked the door shut behind them.

She buried her face in his chest and held onto him. "I—I'm—s-s-so-rry. I—c-c-can't s-s-sto-p." Her body shook with gasps and sobs.

His hands were in her hair, his lips kissing the top of her head. He said nothing and just let her cry. When she finally felt the sobs subsiding she took in a few shuttering breaths before speaking again.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "It's just—it's all too much. Mom, Luke, and now you—" Her voice caught.

He placed two fingers under her chin and lifted until her eyes met his. "I," he slid his hands up to cup her face, wiping the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs, "will be fine. It's just a sweep. We're just—going prepared. Just in case."

She closed her eyes. "I know." She opened them again. "I know."

Leaning down, he touched his forehead to hers and closed his eyes. "Try and get some sleep. We'll be back before you know it."

She nodded, squeezing her eyes shut and raising her hands to his wrists like she did that morning, wishing he would kiss her again. And as if he could read her mind, he leaned in and touched his lips to hers. "I love you," he said against her mouth.

Another sob broke through and more tears started to fall. She reached up and held his face to her, kissing him harder. After a few moments, he pulled back but kept his forehead against hers. "I've got to go," he whispered.

Clary squeezed her eyes shut and nodded. She felt him pull away, her arms aching the further he got from her. The sound of the door opening forced her to open her eyes. "Jace?"

He peeked back around the door. "Yeah?"

She walked over to him, grabbed him around the back of the neck and pulled him back down for one more kiss. "I love you," she said as she released him.

He smiled before ducking back out, the door clicking shut behind him.

###

Clary didn't even realize she'd fallen asleep until voices in the hallway woke her. She glanced at the clock next to her bed, five in the morning. It was still dark. Groaning, she rolled off the bed and walked to the door, opening it a crack. Shadowhunters she'd never met ambled up and down the hall. She watched as they disappeared into the library. More than anything she wanted to go there and see what they'd found, but knew she wouldn't be allowed. Looking down at herself, she knew she wasn't presentable anyway in her tank top and boy-short underwear.

Just as she was about to close the door, she saw a familiar face coming out of the library. Alec.

"Alec," she whisper-shouted to him. "Alec."

He furrowed his brow and looked around until he saw her. He lifted his chin in greeting and pointed toward Jace's bedroom door. Clary smiled and nodded. Alec grinned and retreated back down the hall to his room. Clary looked around and rushed down the hall to Jace's room, praying none of the adults came out and caught her. She knocked and then swept a glance down the hall again. Bouncing on the balls of her feet, she raised her fist to knock again when the door opened a crack.

"Clary?" The door opened wider. "I checked on you when we got back but you were still asleep."

Clary just stared, unable to frame a coherent response. Jace stood half in the shadows, his hair wet like he'd just gotten out of the shower and wearing nothing but black boxer briefs.

"Clary?"

Her head snapped up to his face. Blood filled her cheeks when she realized she'd been staring at him. "I just—I wanted to see—that you were okay."

"I'm okay."

"Luke? Did you find Luke?"

"No. The trail ran cold. But we didn't find any signs that he was hurt."

She looked down at the ground, not knowing how to feel about that. It could be a good thing or a bad thing. It could mean he'd been abducted or it could mean he really had hurt her mother. "Okay."

"Clary, I really don't think he did anything to your mom."

"Really?" She looked up at him again.

"Really."

She nodded, a million and one thoughts flooding her mind at the same time, but only one coherent enough to understand. She didn't want to be away from him. "Jace . . . Can I—can I stay with you tonight? I just—I don't want to be alone. I need to be with you."

He hesitated for only a moment before he reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her into the room and closing the door behind her. Before she knew it, he was kissing her. His hands held her face and his body pressed against hers. She didn't think it possible, but it was better than the kiss that morning. Her legs went weak beneath her and she wrapped her arms around his neck, twisting her fingers in his damp hair.

When he pulled away, he kept his forehead against hers and his eyes closed. Clary felt like her entire body was trembling until she realized it wasn't her—it was him. She brought her hands down from around his neck and placed them over his which still cupped her face. They shook lightly under hers.

"Jace?"

He didn't open his eyes. "I'm okay," he whispered, but even that came out unsteady.

"Jace, look at me."

He took in a few deep breaths and then opened his eyes.

Her breath caught as they met hers. She'd never seen him look at her that way before. He looked—vulnerable. She studied him for a moment and then she knew. Isabelle's words came flooding back to her, _When it's the right time, it'll feel like the right time. _She felt no fear. Only love, only need.

She stepped away from him, reached over to his dresser, grabbing his stele. Jace didn't speak, only watched her. She turned around and etched runes in the door. When she was finished, she returned the stele to the dresser and came to stand before him again. Reaching out. she entwined her fingers with his and leaned her head against him. His heart beat loud and hard in his chest. She stepped back, removed her hands from his, and placed them at his waist.

Pushing back the insecurity of her inexperience, she ran her fingers across his stomach and up his chest, tracing old runes and feeling the taut muscles underneath. She followed her progress with her eyes, memorizing every line of him. When she reached his shoulders, she finally lifted her gaze to his. He was still watching her, that same look in his eyes.

She let her fingers fall slowly, trailing along his skin until she reached his hand and took it in hers. Closing her eyes, she brought it up to her mouth and kissed his palm before placing it against her cheek. With her other hand, she reached around to the back of his neck and pulled him down to her. His body tensed as their lips met.

"Clary," he said against her mouth, his voice strained.

"It's okay," she whispered. "Just let go."

He exhaled deeply as if he'd been holding his breath and his arms wrapped around her, holding her so tightly she couldn't tell where she ended and he began. Her back pressed up against the door as he kissed her, each one deeper and more passionate then the last. His body still trembled against hers as she twisted her hands in his hair, and finally, she realized she was shaking too.

Jace's hands trailed to her sides and traced the bottom of her tank top, his fingers grazing the bare skin peeking out beneath it. Her breath hitched at the feel and the shocks that shot through her at his touch. To let him know she was ready, she removed her hands from his hair and raised her arms over her head. He bent at the knee and slipped his hands up under her shirt, pulling it over her head, breaking their kiss only for a split second. Clary shivered as he brushed over skin that had never been touched by anyone before. He caressed her so carefully and so gently she almost wanted to cry.

"Jace." His name came out a whimper. She'd never felt such need in her life. Her entire body shook with it. "Please."

He scooped her up into his arms, carrying her over to the bed and laying her down lightly. As his body hovered over hers, he looked down at her, studying her eyes, moving from one to the other. Ever so slightly, Clary nodded, telling him exactly what he needed to know.

Jace reached up and traced her cheekbone with his fingers. "You'll tell me if I hurt you?"

Clary smiled and reached up to brush a few strands of golden hair from his eyes, resting her hand against his cheek. "I will."

Slowly, he lowered his body onto hers. Warmth from contact with his skin and the pounding of his heartbeat spread, igniting something inside her. Suddenly, the only thing she could think, feel, smell, taste, and breathe was Jace. And he was the only thing she wanted. Nothing else outside of them mattered. Demons, wars, and death did not exist anymore. She didn't even notice when the sun came up, spilling a prism of color across the previously dark sky, signaling the start of a new day. Because in that moment, both of them and everything between them changed. Irrevocably and forever.


	13. Chapter 13

****The characters of The Mortal Instruments are owned by Cassandra Clare. The original content, ideas and intellectual property of this story are owned by ddpjclaf, 2009. Please do not copy, reproduce, or translate without express written permission.****

_Flufferific_

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Jace awoke that evening to the sun slipping below the horizon. Shades of burnt orange and deep red filled the sky, swallowing up the light and replacing it with a blanket of bright stars. His arms wrapped around something, and before he could question what it was, his memory opened up, flooding his mind with images of that morning.

Clary stood at his door, her hair in shambles, wearing nothing but grey underwear and a white tank top. She stared up at him as if he'd had all the answers, with such trust and love in her eyes that his heart had twisted into a knot. He wanted to hold her, to take care of her. When she asked if she could stay with him, it felt as though he'd finally been given the greatest gift. That she wanted to be with him more than anything else was more than he could ever ask for. More than he was entitled to.

When she'd stepped through the door, his body filled with such need he couldn't stand another moment not kissing her. As he'd taken her into his arms, expecting that need to dwindle, it had just grown, encompassing him fully to the extent that he began to tremble. Never in his life had he felt anything so powerful, so all-consuming as what he'd felt in that moment. He wanted her in every way it was possible to have her. The longing filled him completely, almost crippling his self control to the point of physical pain. His muscles hurt so bad from the trembling and his heart felt like it might explode out of his chest. It took all he had to hold back, to wait for her signal. So, when she'd whispered those words, _let go_, he had, releasing all the emotion that weighed him down like he'd been pressed under miles and miles of earth and rock. The relief was instantaneous. He was finally able to give himself to her the way he wanted, the way he needed.

He'd tried so hard to be careful, treating her like the fragile being she was. He kept his hands light on her skin, but no matter how gentle he was, he could not avoid the inevitable pain he caused her. Her tiny hands dug into him as tears slipped from the corners of her eyes. Repentant of the hurt he caused, he kissed away her tears and whispered, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Over and over, he whispered those words as he waited for her, waited for her to tell him she was okay. When she did, she raised her delicate hands to his face, met his eyes and told him she loved him. She pulled his lips back to hers, kissing him so softly it nearly broke him in two. The fact that she could be so gentle with him after he'd hurt her so much was beyond his scope of understanding. He held her tightly against him, but it was never enough, never close enough.

For the first time in his life, he had given himself completely to another person. He'd thought that he had from the beginning but now he knew he was wrong. There was always a small part of himself he kept hidden, a small part that was still afraid. Still afraid of being vulnerable, still afraid of needing. Not until he'd held her in his arms and she had trusted him so completely with herself had he been able to let go of that part of himself. And now, he truly did belong to her, in every sense of the word. His heart, his body, his soul. All hers for as long as she wanted.

He stared up at the ceiling letting the memory wash over him, bathing him in contentment and love. She still slept, curled up next to him, her head and hand lying on his chest. He wanted to embrace her tighter, pull her closer, but he held back as to not wake her. She felt so small next to him. So breakable. Yet she wasn't, she was strong, one of the strongest people he knew. Stronger than Alec, than Isabelle, and especially stronger than him. After everything she'd been through, she still stood tall, she still fought back. She even fought him, challenged him in every way. Sometimes it frustrated him, but most of the time it filled him with awe. That someone so tiny, so soft, could be so tough.

Clary let out a soft sigh and stretched her hand across his chest, pulling herself closer to him. He reached his other arm over and drew her tighter against his side. Her finger started moving against his skin, drawing the small circles he loved so much. A smile broke over his lips as he closed his eyes, happy she was finally awake.

"I would say good morning, but seeing as the sun is setting, I guess that's not really appropriate," she said.

He smiled wider. "You can say whatever you want. I know what you mean."

She drew up on one elbow and met his gaze. He studied her carefully, searching for any indication that she regretted what had happened between them, but the look in her eyes conveyed nothing but pure unadulterated happiness. She slid up to him, ran her soft fingers across his cheek and leaned in to kiss him. His hand trailed up her bare back, past her shoulder, and up to her face. She rested her forehead on his and ran her fingers lightly through his hair, tucking it behind his ear.

"Thank you," she whispered.

His eyes widened in surprise. "For what?"

"For you. For letting me have you. For letting me have all of you."

As usual, she rendered him speechless. Something only she was able to do. To think that she spoke of him as some sort of prize, a gift that he'd given her. She thought that she'd been the lucky one, that she'd won the grand prize. But she was wrong. It was he who had won.

He raised both of his hands to her face and smoothed her fiery red tangles back. "I belong to you, Clary. You can have as much or as little of me as you want, for as long as you want. Forever, if that makes you happy."

"Forever makes me ecstatic." She smiled and slid her body on top of his.

His nerves ignited at the feel of her skin against his. He ran his hands up her arms then down her back. She lowered her face to his and trailed her lips along his jaw, placing tiny, soft kisses along it to his ear.

"Clary?" He fought to control his voice, her kisses causing him to nearly come undone. "Will you tell me something?"

"Of course." Her breath tickled his ear causing a shudder to rip through his body. She giggled.

Reluctantly, he drew her face back to his with his hands. He wanted to see her face, to make sure she was telling him the truth. "Promise me you'll tell me the truth."

Her eyes widened, a flicker of anxiety flashed through them. "Okay, I promise."

"Did I—did I hurt you very badly?"

Her eyes softened and she raised her hand to his face. "No. Not nearly as much as I was expecting."

He gripped her face harder. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I hurt you at all. If I could have—"

She placed a finger to his lips. "I'm not sorry about any of it. None of it. Not even that tiny bit of pain. It was—" She glanced up at the ceiling before meeting his eyes again. "Well, not to sound too cheesy, but it was perfect. So much more perfect than I ever expected. You were perfect. You were so careful, so concerned with hurting me. I've never felt so safe or so loved in my life. And the pain—well, it was kind of a good pain. If there's such a thing." She smiled down at him. "Good because it meant that I was finally and completely yours in every sense of the word. And there's nothing else I want more in this world than to be yours."

Again, he was speechless. How she managed to keep him, Jace Lightwood, silent was a mystery to even him. He stared at her, not knowing what he could say to top that and finally realized he couldn't. Instead of trying, he pulled her face down to his and kissed her.

"You're doing it again," she mumbled against his lips.

"What?"

"Kissing me in your super secret way."

"Is that bad?"

"Only if you're planning on teasing me and not following through on what it's doing to me."

He smiled against her lips. "And what if I was planning on just teasing?"

She scrunched her nose and grinned. "Well, then I guess I'd just have to make you."

"Really? I'd like to see you try."

Her smile widened. "You're on."

###

"Oh my God, I'm starving." Clary clutched her growling stomach.

Jace laughed. "I wondered when you might say that."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Clary, you do realize it's nine P.M., right? You haven't eaten all day." He sat up, pulled on his shorts, and stood.

"Really?" She glanced over at the clock. "I wonder why no one has come for us." Tucking the sheet around her, she glanced over the side of the bed, her brows furrowed.

"Looking for these?" Jace stood at the foot of the bed holding up her clothes, his mouth tweaked into a lopsided grin.

Clary held out her hand. Jace raised his brows.

"Give them to me, Jace."

He shook his head and hid them behind his back.

"Jace." She tried to give him a stern look but failed miserably. Holding the sheet tight against her, she hopped out of the bed and stalked up to him. "Give me my clothes."

"Or what?"

"Or . . . or I'll just go out like this." She gestured to her sheet clad body.

He laughed. "No you won't."

"Wanna bet?" She stalked to the door.

Jace stepped in front of her. "You're so stubborn. All you had to do was ask nicely." He handed the clothes to her.

She snatched them out of his hands and narrowed her eyes. He stared at her expectantly. She gestured with her finger for him to turn around.

He rolled his eyes and turned to face the door. "I would have thought after today you'd be over being shy around me."

She slipped into her clothes and stood with her hands on her hips. "I'm not shy. I just figured you were being a jerk, so you didn't deserve a peek." She tossed the sheet back to his bed. "You can turn around. I'm done."

He faced her again and smirked. "That's all right. I can just close my eyes and see you whenever I want." He closed his eyes and grinned.

She reached behind her, grabbed one of the pillows off the bed, and threw it into his face. He swatted it aside just before it hit and launched himself toward her, grabbing her around the waist. She squealed and allowed him to catch her.

Reaching up, she wrapped her arms around his neck and crushed her lips to his. "Now, feed me before I wither away into nothing."

"Okay," he set her down, "but you should probably wear more than that." He gestured to her tank top and underwear.

"Hmm," she said as she looked around his room. When she faced him again, he held out a clean t-shirt to her. She frowned.

"What? You don't like blue?"

"No. I just wanted something that smelled like you."

He looked at her like she'd finally lost her mind. "You've got me. I'll let you smell me whenever you want."

"Well, I can't really be sticking my nose into you while other people are around, can I? Plus, it would be like being wrapped up in you all day."

He raised a brow. "That's the cheesiest thing I've ever heard."

She laughed as he walked past her to the bathroom. He came out a few seconds later with his shirt from the day before and tossed it to her. "There. Happy now?"

She caught it and held it up to her nose. "Ah, nice and Jacey. Perfect." She slipped it on over her head.

"God, you're weird."

She laughed. "You know what's weird . . . this shirt is longer than most of the dresses Isabelle puts me in."

"Come on." He grabbed her hand. "I think your hunger is making you more bizarre than normal."

Jace peeked his head out into the hall before opening the door wider. "All clear."

They hurried toward the kitchen and slipped inside. Jace crossed to the refrigerator, threw open the door and leaned against it, studying the contents inside. "Hmm, well, do you feel like just getting sick or dying outright? If it's death you prefer, we have a lovely assortment of Isabelle's finest."

Clary smiled and walked over to him, wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned against his back. "You know what I want?"

He looked over his shoulder at her. "I thought you wanted food?"

She slapped him lightly on the stomach. "I do!"

"Okay." He laughed. "What do you want?"

Clary reached around him and grabbed a block of cheese. "Cheese sandwiches?"

He grinned. "And apples?"

"Of course." She stepped back, grabbing the bread from the breadbox.

After pulling two green apples from the crisper drawer, Jace kicked the door shut and placed them on the island, grabbing a knife from the block on the counter. He sat down on the bar stool and started peeling the apples. Clary sat across from him, sliced the cheese, and layered it on the bread.

She passed one of the sandwiches to Jace. "I'm sure this won't be as good as yours."

"Probably not." He grinned and slid one of the peeled and sliced apples over to her before shoving a wedge in his own mouth.

"Ha-ha." She narrowed her eyes and then studied him for a moment. "Hey, come here for a second." Resting on her elbows, she leaned across the island.

"What?" He bent toward her.

"I just want to see something." She inched toward him, placing her lips against his. He raised his hand to her face as he kissed her back. "Mmm, yep, tastes just as good as the first time."

The door to the kitchen swung open behind Clary. "There you are—Clary, what are you wearing?" Isabelle asked.

Clary looked down at her outfit. "Nothing."

"I can see that." Isabelle came up beside her and plopped down in the stool next to her. She glanced over at Jace. "For crying out loud, neither of you are fully dressed. He's missing a shirt and you have no pa—oh!" Her eyes widened. She turned to Clary, her mouth still stuck in the shape of an "o." "Oh! Oh!"

Jace raised his brows. "Izzy, are you having some sort of seizure?"

She glared at him. "Shut up, Jace. I need to borrow Clary for a minute."

"But I'm eating!" Clary protested.

Isabelle grabbed her arm and yanked her away from the island. "Bring it with you!"

Jace tossed her food onto a paper towel, gathered it up and handed it to her. She pulled against Isabelle's grip and leaned over the island again, kissing him quickly.

"Oh, come on!" Isabelle pulled again.

Clary flashed Jace a look that said "help me." He raised both of his hands palm out in front of him and grinned. She glared at him.

"Okay, okay." He stood, gathered his stuff, and walked around the island, slipping his hand around Clary's waist. Bending down, he whispered in her ear. "I'm sorry, but you're just going to have to endure her."

Clary gasped in disbelief as he crushed his lips to hers.

"Ugh, gross," Isabelle said.

Jace let go of her and started toward the door. "Be gentle, Izzy."

"You should talk!" she called after him.

His chuckle followed him down the hall.

Isabelle grabbed a hold of Clary's arm once again, pulled her through the door and down the hall to her room. After practically shoving her into the bedroom, Isabelle turned to her, her hands on her hips and an expectant look on her face. "Well?"

Clary stumbled over the piles of clothes strewn over the floor and made her way across the room, almost falling twice on the way. After plopping down on the bed, she met Isabelle's stare. "Well what?"

"Seriously? You're going to play dumb with me?"

Clary laughed and shrugged.

Isabelle bounded over the piles and landed next to Clary on the bed. "Oh my God. You _did_, didn't you?"

Clary fell back onto the bed. "I thought you didn't want to hear about this?"

"I said I didn't want details, not that I didn't want to hear about it. I am a girl, Clary. I like romance and all that crap."

"Yeah, it really sounds like it." Clary laughed.

"Don't try to distract me. I have a one track mind."

"What do you want me to tell you, Izzy."

Isabelle's face went serious. "Are you okay?"

Clary's brows drew together. "Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, you know. What we talked about."

"Oh, that." She turned over onto her side to face Isabelle. "You know, I was totally worried for nothing."

"Okay." She closed her eyes and placed two fingers to each of her temples. "Just give me a moment to clear my mind of the fact that this is Jace we're talking about." She sighed and lowered her hands. "Okay, go on."

"You know how you told me that when it felt right then it was right? Well, it felt right. So . . ."

Isabelle raised her hand to her mouth. "And . . . and he was, you know, good to you?"

Clary smiled and nodded her head. "He was perfect to me."

"Good." Isabelle patted Clary's hand. "Now I don't have to kick his ass." She thought about that for a moment. "Too bad."

Clary was startled by a loud knock on the door.

"Go away Jace!" Isabelle yelled.

"It's not Jace, it's Alec." A voice came from the other side of the door.

"What do you want, Alec? We're having girl talk in here."

"Magnus sent me. It's Jocelyn."

Clary bolted off the bed and to the door, opening it so quickly Alec jumped in shock.

"What about my mother? Is she okay?"

Alec nodded. "She's awake."


	14. Chapter 14

****The characters of The Mortal Instruments are owned by Cassandra Clare. The original content, ideas and intellectual property of this story are owned by ddpjclaf, 2009. Please do not copy, reproduce, or translate without express written permission.****

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Clary's hand froze on the handle of the infirmary door. Her mother, the woman who had cared for and kept her safe her entire life, waited on the other side. And Clary was scared to see her. Things had changed over the last few months. All of the lies and deceptions had put a wedge between them. One Clary wasn't sure she was ready to forgive. She was also afraid of what she might learn about what had really happened. If Luke had had anything to do with this, she wasn't sure she could handle hearing it.

She closed her eyes and touched her forehead to the door. Taking a deep breath, she pushed it open, stepping into the dim room. Her mother lay in a bed near the window. The moonlight streamed in giving her unusually pale skin an eerie blue cast. Clary moved slowly toward her, fighting with the other side of herself that just wanted to run and throw her arms around her. When she reached the side of the bed, her mother's eyes were still closed. The washed out color of her skin made her bright auburn hair appear like flames against snow.

Clary sank down in the chair by Jocelyn's side and reached out, taking her mother's hand in her own. At her touch, Jocelyn's eyes flickered open. She turned toward Clary, her mouth stretching into a grin as she caught sight of her daughter.

Clary's eyes stung with tears and she leaned forward, laying her forehead on the edge of the bed. Jocelyn raised her hand and placed it on Clary's head, smoothing her tangled hair down. "Why are you crying?"

She raised her gaze to meet her mother's. "I thought—I thought you were going to die. And Luke—"

Jocelyn's eyes widened as if she'd just realized something. "Luke . . ."

"Mom." Clary sat up and reached over, clutching Jocelyn's hand. "Do you remember what happened?"

Jocelyn squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. "Not really. It was—so fast and so confusing. Luke and I were back in the library. He'd gotten a new shipment of books and we were going through them when we thought we heard a clicking sound, like claws against the hardwood. The last thing I remember was Luke shouting for me to get back, and then him transforming right there. Something shot into the room. I couldn't tell what it was or even where it was it moved so fast. It attacked Luke, and somehow I must have gotten in the way. I remember a sharp pain ripping through my chest and then everything went black."

Clary stared at her. "But Mom, you called me."

"What?"

"That's how I found you. You called me on the phone."

Jocelyn's brows drew together. "Clary, how could I call you when I was blacked out?"

Clary's breath hitched. If it wasn't Jocelyn, who was it and why did it sound exactly like her mother?

"Clary?"

She glanced up, finding her mother's emerald eyes studying her intently.

"Where's Luke?"

Clary's eyes filled with tears and she lowered her head, shaking it back and forth.

"Clary?" Jocelyn's voice trembled.

Clary raised her gaze and met Jocelyn's tear-filled one. "We don't know." Her voice cracked.

"What do you mean you 'don't know?'" Jocelyn's eyes widened.

"Mom." Clary reached out to touch Jocelyn's hand. "When we got to the house, we only found you. Luke wasn't there."

"But that's impossible. We were together, Clary. He had to be there."

Clary shook her head. "I was there, Mom. He wasn't there. But Jace said they didn't find any signs that he'd been hurt badly."

"Then where is he, Clary? Where is he?" Jocelyn's voice clouded with desperation.

Clary leaned over the bed, taking her mother into her arms. "I don't know Mom. But we're going to find him."

Jocelyn struggled against Clary's embrace. "I—I've got to get out of here. I need to find Luke."

"Mom." Clary pulled back and grasped Jocelyn's arms. "Everyone's already looking for him. Maryse and Robert have gathered a group of Shadowhunters and they're searching for any clue that might tell us what happened and who's behind it."

"Maryse and Robert have made it clear in the past they don't trust Luke. How can I trust them to do right by him?"

"Mom! Things have changed since Idris. You know that."

"I know the Lightwoods. I know how the Shadowhunting world works. No matter how much of a truce we've come up with they will still feel their own importance more than a single Downworlder."

"No Mom." Clary's voice shook. "You _knew_ the Lightwoods. They're not the same people they were. Look at their kids. Look at Jace."

"Jace," she said more to herself than to Clary. After a moment, she turned to Clary, her eyes cold. "Do you want to know what I see when I look at Jace?" She paused. "Valentine."

"Mom." The word came out as a gasp.

Jocelyn closed her eyes for a moment. "I can't help it and maybe it's not fair to that boy but that's what I see. In everything about him, his cocky attitude, the manner in which he fights and most of all the way he looks at you." She raised her eyes to Clary's. "Like he owns you. Like you're his. That's the way Valentine looked at me. He was raised by Valentine, taught by him. Valentine was incapable of really loving anyone. How could a child that he raised be any different? Look at Jonathon."

Clary's mouth had fallen open at that point. She couldn't believe the things she was hearing. Especially since they were coming from her mother, a woman she thought held an excessive amount of compassion. "How can you say those things?" Tears pricked at the edges of her eyes. "How can you compare Jace to Jonathon? Jonathon had demon blood in his veins! That's why he was the way he was. Jace is nothing like Jonathon or Valentine."

Jocelyn reached over and laid her hand on top of Clary's. "Clary, I know you think you love him—"

Clary jumped up from her chair, knocking it to the floor as she stood. "Think? I don't _think_, I know."

"You can't possibly know. You have no experience before this. You're only sixteen years old. You and Jace are both children."

"You were sixteen when you fell in love with Valentine." Clary could hear the frantic edge to her voice. She was losing it, she could tell.

"Yes." Jocelyn's voice was very calm. "And we all know how that turned out."

"Yes, we do, but you're forgetting one thing. I'm not you. And as much as you try to deny it, Jace isn't Valentine. For whatever you think you see in him that's like Valentine, there are a thousand things about him that aren't. When my Sight came back, he was the one who taught me about this whole other world, not you. It should have been you, but you were too much in denial to take on your responsibility. When Luke was attacked outside his own house, it was Jace who helped me save him. When Simon was almost dead on that ship, it was Jace who gave him his own blood and brought him back. Would Valentine have done that? Would he have risked himself for a Downworlder? You know as well as I do he wouldn't."

"Clary—"

Clary held up a hand to stop Jocelyn from speaking. "No, you know what? I'm not going to do this. I know you think you're protecting me and I love you for that. But you're wrong. I know you think everything Valentine touched went bad. There's certainly a lot of proof to back that up. But you're forgetting a few very important exceptions. He touched you and Luke, and you two are good. Why can't you believe that for Jace? Why can't you see past the prejudices you have against Valentine and see_ him_?"

"Clary, you didn't know Valentine."

"You're right, I didn't. But I do know Jace—better than I know you apparently. I think he's the one person who hasn't lied to me about who he is. You spent my entire life covering up who you really were, who I really was. And now you want me to trust your judgment about something as important as this? Well, I'm sorry but I just can't do that, not anymore." Clary took a few steps backward toward the door.

"Clary—"

Clary's eyes filled with tears. "I'm sorry, Mom. I can't." She whipped around and bolted out the door into the hall. Closing her eyes, she leaned against the cool, smooth wood, letting the hot tears slide down her cheeks.

It was when she opened her eyes again that she saw him standing there. His back against the wall, head down and arms held across his chest.

She took a few steps toward him, her arms outstretched. "Jace. Did you—"

"Hear that?" His head came up, his eyes conveying that he had. "Just the end, and the part I'm assuming you wish I didn't."

She closed the distance between them and placed her hand on his arm. "Jace."

He looked away from her. "Isabelle told me Jocelyn had woken up. I waited here because I didn't want to disturb your time with her. I wasn't trying to listen in." His eyes found hers once more. "She'll never see past Valentine, Clary. She can't."

"If she wants me in her life she will."

"Clary—"

Clary rose up on tip-toes and pressed her lips against his, silencing him. "No." She shook her head. "I'm not going to change my mind. She's my mother and I love her, but you—there are no words to express what you are to me. She's just going to have to deal with that and get over it."

The corner of his mouth twitched up into a grin. "Spoken like a true sixteen-year-old."

"Uh-huh." She stretched up again, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. His hands found her face and his fingers brushed over her skin sending shocks through her body. Twisting her hands into the hair at the back of his neck, she pulled him closer. She just couldn't seem to get close enough to him. Without thinking, she pressed her hips into his.

"Clary," he said against her mouth.

"Hmm?" She didn't pull away to answer him.

"We probably shouldn't do this here."

"Do what?" She continued her assault on his lips.

He reached up and pushed her face back. "This." His eyes fell to their sandwiched bodies.

"Oh." Clary stepped back, her cheeks burning. "I'm sorry. I—I couldn't control myself."

His brows pinched together. "I don't think that's something you ever need to apologize to me for. I just figured maybe we didn't want to put on a show for everyone who comes down the hall."

"No, you're right, I'm so—" She clapped a hand over her mouth. "Sorry." She gasped. "Dang it. Why can't I stop saying that?"

He laughed.

"So," she asked. "What are you doing tonight?"

He lifted one brow, a devilish grin spreading across his lips.

Clary smiled, whipped around and ran down the hall toward her room. Jace followed behind, tackled her through the open door, and slammed it shut behind them.

###

Clary awoke when the sun was already high to the sound of her cell phone vibrating against the hard wood of her bedside table. She groaned and reached over to it, checking the time as she did. Eleven-thirty in the morning. Grabbing the phone, she flipped it open and pressed it to her ear, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and pointer finger.

"Hello," she croaked.

"Clary?" Simon's voice greeted her. "Were you still asleep? How hard are they working you there that you have to sleep half the day away?"

Clary grinned with the memory of the night before. "What do you want, Simon?" She slid her hand across the bed, finding only cold sheet next to her. A crinkle sounded when she touched a folded piece of paper. She picked it up and opened it. Across the center, Jace had scrawled a note, _In the training room. Come down when you decide to quit being lazy. —J._

"Well, I haven't seen you in a few days. I thought maybe we could hang later—if your warden allows it, of course."

"Shut up, Simon." Clary yawned and placed Jace's note on the table. "Sure, that sounds good actually. What were you thinking?"

"I don't know," Simon said. "Maybe we could just get something to eat and catch up—or something."

Clary fought back another yawn. "Simon, you don't eat, you suck people's blood."

"Hey! Other than—well, that one time—I've never drank human blood."

She chuckled. "Sure. Okay, maybe we could go to Taki's. That way we can both eat."

"You don't think Mr. 'loves himself more than anyone should be allowed to' would mind?"

"Simon," Clary scolded. "Be nice."

Simon sighed. "Sorry. Well, will he?"

She stretched and sat up, peeking into the mirror on her open closet door. Her hair looked like she'd ratted it up and applied three cans of hairspray. She reached up to touch it and groaned. It was not going to feel very good trying to brush those tangles out. "He probably will, Simon. If you think he's normally overprotective you should see him now. With these attacks would you blame him?"

"No," Simon whined.

"Don't worry. I'll talk to him. He knows I'm safe with you."

"Yeah, yeah. Call me later and we'll plan a time."

"Okay. See ya."

"See ya."

Clary clicked the phone shut and tossed it back onto the table. With another yawn and stretch, she stumbled toward the bathroom. A hot shower should loosen her up for training. She stripped off her clothes, stepped over to the shower and turned the knobs. Placing her hand under the pouring stream to test the temperature, she stepped in when it felt just right. She lifted her face to the water, letting it fall over her, refreshing her tired body. Her thoughts drifted to her mom. Why did she have to act the way she did about Jace? Clary understood her reservations, but why couldn't she just get to know him? If she did, Clary knew she would love him too. Well, maybe not love, but like at least. She knew better than anyone how difficult Jace could be.

After she'd worked shampoo and conditioner through her tangled locks, rinsed and washed the rest of her body, she stepped out, wrapping a large fluffy towel around her. She ran another towel across her hair and pulled a brush through it. After several minutes of painful tugging, she had all the snarls out. She stepped back into her room and dressed in a pair of short training shorts, a sports bra, underwear, and a tight white tank top. After pulling her wet hair up into a ponytail, she set off toward the training room.

When she opened the door, she found Jace and Alec sword fighting on the centermost mat. The clang of the swirling blades echoed throughout the high-ceilinged room. Isabelle stood near the back, one leg stretched straight up against the wall. Clary wished she was as flexible.

She walked over to stand next to Isabelle.

"How was your night?" Isabelle smirked.

Clary glared at her. "Fine. Yours?"

"It was all right. Nowhere near as productive as yours I'm sure." She laughed.

Clary rolled her eyes, but figured she was probably right. Her night had been amazing—but she wasn't about to tell Isabelle that. She sighed and began stretching her arms, pulling them across her body and pressing them to her with her other hand.

"So what are you doing this morning?" Isabelle switched legs, stretching the other up on the wall.

"Hand-to-hand, I think." Clary bent over, touching her fingers to her toes. From behind her came a loud clang, a grunt and then a bang. Clary straightened up and turned finding Alec perched on top of Jace, his sword to his neck.

Clary and Isabelle exchanged surprised glances. No one ever beat Jace. Alec jumped up and whooped. "Finally!"

Jace sat up and glared at Alec. "That doesn't count. I was distracted."

Alec leaned over and slapped Jace on the back. "Lesson of the day. Eyes on your opponent, not on the cute girl's butt. You know better than that, Jace." Alec peered up at Clary and winked. Her face exploded with heat.

He reached his hand down to help Jace up. Jace took it, but rather than standing, he jerked his hand hard, flipping Alec over and landing him on his back. Jace stood and hovered over Alec. "Lesson of the day. Never tease an opponent stronger than you."

Alec groaned.

"Boys," Isabelle said.

Clary couldn't help but laugh. "I tease you all the time." She spread her legs and leaned over, not finding enough resistance to stretch as much as she would have liked.

Jace stepped up beside her. "Yeah, but I like it when you do it. Here, let me help you." He placed one hand on her hip and one on her upper back, applying light pressure.

She felt her muscles stretching immediately. He removed his hands and she switched sides. He pressed on her again.

She straightened up. "Thanks."

He reached out his hand to her. "You ready?"

She took it. "Yep." She cocked her head to the side and looked up at him. "Is it weird that we're holding hands on the way out to fight?"

He laughed and led her to the center of the mat. "For anyone else, yes. For us, no, not really."

He let go and stood across from her. Donning a fighting stance, she threw a few punches and kicks at him. All of which he blocked with ease.

"By the way," she panted. "Simon called me this morning."

"Oh, yeah?" He avoided another punch by grabbing her arm and twisting her toward him, holding her backward against his chest. "What did the bloodsucker want?"

She elbowed him in the side and wriggled out of his grasp. "Wanted to meet up with me later." She kicked at his side only to have him catch her foot, twisting it and her off her feet. Landing with a hard thud on the ground, she flipped over out of the way before her could pin her. Within seconds, she was back on her feet.

"Oh," he said, as he blocked another of her jabs. "Where are you going to go?"

She paused in shock just long enough for him to flip her over onto her back once more and pin her under his body. "You mean you're not going to argue with me and act all 'you're not going' or whatever."

He laughed. "No, but I will insist he come here to get you and walk you there and back. That is if he can handle doing something that involves being a gentleman."

"Shut up." She stared up at him, studying his golden eyes as they did the same to hers. "You're really not going to fight me on this? I mean, I just figured with all the attacks and everything."

He raised his brows. "You're right, it's much too dangerous. I simply forbid you to leave my side for even an instant." He grinned. "Is that better?"

"It sounds more like you." She nodded and then frowned. "What's your deal?"

He leaned down to kiss her. "Maybe I'm just in a good mood."

"That's a first."

"Shut up," he said as he stole another peck from her lips


	15. Chapter 15

****The characters of The Mortal Instruments are owned by Cassandra Clare. The original content, ideas and intellectual property of this story are owned by ddpjclaf, 2009. Please do not copy, reproduce, or translate without express written permission.****

Chapter Songs:

_The Crow and the Butterfly - Shinedown_**  
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Clary watched with great amusement as Jace fidgeted near the elevator door. He jabbed the down arrow with his thumb, cursing under his breath. Clary bit back a laugh. For all his proclamation about being okay with her going out alone with Simon—or anyone for that matter—she knew he wasn't. Which was the reason she'd asked Simon if it was all right to bring both Jace and Isabelle with her. Simon attempted a half-hearted grumble, but Clary knew he was fine with it, especially if Isabelle would be there. She knew it was slightly cruel, but watching Jace struggle to follow through on his words was fun.

After the fifth time he raked his fingers through his hair she asked, "You okay?"

Jace glanced back at her, and then returned his gaze to the elevator door. "Yeah. Of course."

She bit the inside of her mouth to stop her grin. "You sure about that?" She gestured to the hand that had found its way back to his hair. "If you keep that up you're going to start pulling it out."

He glanced up and removed his hand, dropping it to his side.

"You don't want me to go do you?"

He gave her an incredulous look and turned away. "Don't be stupid."

"Jace." She reached up and grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at her. "You don't have to pretend with me."

He closed his eyes and let out a slow breath before opening them again. "I'm trying not to be an obsessive, over-protective jerk."

Clary pulled his face down to hers, planting a kiss on his mouth. "You can't help what you are."

"Thanks for that."

"So . . . are you going to spill or what?"

He chewed on his lower lip for a moment before meeting her eyes. "Fine. I don't want you to go, okay? I don't think the vampire can protect you as good as I can. There, are you happy now? I sound like a complete ass."

"Yes, you do. But it's part of your charm."

The sound of clicking heels on the hallway floor sounded behind them.

Isabelle sidled up beside Clary, her hair fluttering around her face, and her silver-gold whip wrapped around her arm. "So, where are we going?"

Jace looked at her, confused.

"Taki's." Clary returned her gaze to Jace and grinned. "You didn't really think I bought your act did you?"

"Yeah, Jace," Isabelle said. "You're a horrible actor."

He still looked confused.

Clary placed her hand on his chest. "I called Simon and told him we'd all be coming."

Jace stared down at her. "So you've just been screwing with me all afternoon?"

Clary shrugged. "Pretty much."

"And I thought I held the corner of the jerk market in this place."

"Don't worry, you haven't lost your title there." Clary laughed and turned to Isabelle. "So how long do you think he would have lasted before following me?"

"Considering the amount of nervous agitation he's displaying?" Isabelle studied Jace. "I'd say two maybe three minutes tops."

The elevator dinged and the doors opened. Isabelle stepped in first, followed by Clary and Jace.

Clary turned to him, raised her brows, and looked up at him apprehensively. "So, are you mad?"

"Yes, furious." He grinned. "Actually, I'm quite impressed with your deception. It's sort of a turn on."

"Oh God." Isabelle groaned. "If you two are gonna start going at it in the elevator could you at least warn me first so I can get out my barf bag?"

Clary elbowed her in the side.

"That's a good idea," Jace said. "I think I'm going to write that down in my 'things to do to make Izzy vomit' book. You know, as pay back for all of your cooking I've had to endure over the years."

Before Isabelle had a chance to respond the elevator doors slid open and Clary jumped out. "Oh, thank God!" As much as she adored them both, their constant back and forth was beginning to give her a headache.

Clary stepped outside the Institute into the fading light. This had always been her favorite time of day. That instant just before the sun slipped below the horizon and the light seemed to grow brighter, casting a golden sheen over everything. She closed her eyes and inhaled, letting the last of the rays soak into her skin, invigorating and filling her. For that split second, all thoughts of her mother, Luke, and danger left her mind. Only the calming light dancing on her closed eyelids remained.

She felt a shift of air at her side and peeked up to find Jace standing beside her, staring straight ahead, his face bathed in the fading rays. Her breath hitched. She'd always thought Jace was handsome, gorgeous, pretty even. But she could honestly say that at that moment he was stunningly beautiful, all gold and light, just like an angel. Her gaze was transfixed on him, taking in everything she could in the moments before all the light was gone.

"You're staring at me. Why are you staring at me?" he asked without looking at her.

"Because people tend to stare at beautiful things."

He chuckled under his breath and turned to her. As he did, a loose golden curl fell in front of his eyes. Clary reached up and moved it aside with her finger, lingering against the skin at his temple. Her eyes locked with his and she found herself unable to look away. The emotion that rose up inside her was enough to render her completely immobile. She'd thought she'd known what it was to love someone. What she felt for her mother, Luke, and even Simon was very strong. She'd do anything for any one of them. Protect them with her own life. But when she looked at Jace, the gravity of what she felt for him crashed over her like a tidal wave. It filled her to overflowing, almost causing actual pain.

"Clary, are you all right?" A hint of concern colored his voice.

Her gaze remained fixed with his, the swelling emotion pressing on her from every side. "Jace," she whispered. "I—I need you to do something."

He raised his brows in question.

"Kiss me."

His mouth opened in surprise. "What?"

Clary closed her eyes. "Please." The request came out more as a breath than an actual spoken word. Somewhere in the darkness of her own creation, a light sparked as his hands brushed against her face, cupping her cheeks. She trembled in anticipation. Why her body was reacting in such a strong way, she had no idea. All she knew was that she needed to feel him.

Just as she thought she couldn't take another second, his warm, soft lips brushed against hers causing a massive swell of heat to travel through her, breaking through the dam and spilling her passion all over both of them. Relief flooded her as she opened her mouth against his kiss, taking him in and losing herself in the process.

"Disgusting, isn't it?" Isabelle's voice broke through Clary's haze.

"Is this what we're going to have to endure all night? Because that's enough to make me sick, and I can't even throw up now that I'm a vampire."

Clary smiled against Jace's lips as Isabelle sighed. "Try living with them if you think this is bad. I can't look anywhere anymore without catching them devouring each other in some way."

"Sick."

Clary pulled away from Jace and glanced toward where Isabelle and Simon stood outside the Institute gates. "You're just jealous it isn't you."

Isabelle scrunched her nose. "I don't want to be kissing Jace!"

Simon made a gagging sound. "Oh! I think I'm about to prove myself wrong on the whole'vampires don't puke' thing."

Clary laughed and grabbed Jace's hand. "You guys are stupid."

"What? No sarcastic retort?" Simon glanced at Jace.

Jace shrugged. "Actually, I was just too engrossed in my hope of seeing a vampire puke. It would have been the highlight of my evening. As always bloodsucker, you disappoint. You should work on that."

"And there it is." Simon rolled his eyes and focused on Clary. "Seriously?" He cocked his thumb in Jace's direction.

Clary disengaged herself from Jace and slung her arms around Simon's neck, giving him a small squeeze before moving away from him again. "It's nice to see you, Simon. You look good—much better than the last time I saw you." She wasn't lying. It seemed Simon got just a little bit hotter every time she saw him. The whole vampire thing seemed to work for him.

Of course, if he'd just forgo the D&D t-shirts it would make him even more irresistible. If she weren't head-over-heels crazy over Jace, she may have given Simon another thought. His dark hair and eyes stood out in that smolderingly sexy sort of way against the pure white of his skin. He'd taken to wearing his hair down over his forehead in order to hide the Mark of Cain Clary had placed on him in Idris. The look was good for him.

"Having second thoughts about dumping me?" He wiggled his eyebrows.

"In your dreams." Clary laughed, stopping abruptly as her stomach growled. "I'm starving! God, it's like I haven't eaten in days."

"It's all that energy you've been expending." Isabelle winked at her. Clary's face burned as Jace let a small chuckle slip.

"What am I missing?" Simon asked, his gaze flickering between the three of them.

"Nothing," Clary and Isabelle answered together.

When Simon's eyes moved from them to Jace, Jace lifted his hands and shrugged, a silly grin stretched over his lips.

Simon huffed. "You guys are so annoying." He turned and stalked across the street, using a touch of his vampire speed to leave the rest of them trailing behind him.

"Are you sure he's not a girl?" Jace asked. "Because he sure does throw a fit like one."

Clary elbowed him in the side. "Be nice."

As she turned back to the direction Simon had sped off to, she caught sight of a blur as it rushed out from between two buildings and tackled Simon, dragging him into the dark alley. She gasped and turned to Jace but he was already running toward the dark space. Isabelle trailed behind him while uncoiling her whip. Clary's legs felt like they weighed a hundred pounds but she somehow managed to move them forward and made it to the alley just after Jace and Isabelle. She fingered her belt, cursing herself for only bringing a small dagger.

In front of her stood three demons, their black skin shimmering with an iridescent spectrum like the scales on a fish. Yellow beady eyes stared out as they raised their webbed, razor-tipped hands. Thick yellow ooze dripped from them onto the ground below.

"Now we get the Vanknors," Jace grumbled to Isabelle.

Isabelle cracked her whip and readied herself to fight. "Why do we always get the messy ones when I'm wearing new shoes?"

Without turning around, Jace reached to the back of his jeans and pulled out a long blade. "Clary, take this and stand behind us."

She wrapped her fingers around the hilt just as one of the demons launched itself toward them. Isabelle kicked out and caught the monster in the abdomen, causing it to fly back. It scrambled to its feet, snarled and came barreling back. Just behind it, Clary spied a blur of activity which she assumed to be Simon fighting something else. Whatever it was held its own against Simon's vampire strength and speed.

In front of her, Isabelle struck out with her whip. One of the Vanknors grabbed it and pulled. Isabelle flew up into the air and crashed into the wall beside her.

Jace lunged toward it, lopping the arm that held the end of Isabelle's whip off from it. The creature stumbled back and howled. Jace grabbed a dagger from his belt and threw it forward, striking the demon right in the heart. It fell to the ground, folding in on itself upon impact. One of the others ambled forward and struck out, catching Jace and throwing him backward into a nearby dumpster. Unthinking, Clary started toward him only to come face-to-face with the third Vanknor.

Her eyes widened and her brain froze out all of her training. Just before the demon reached her she heard a loud crack, saw a flash of silver-gold, and the demon jerked backward with Isabelle's whip wrapped around its neck. It clawed at the noose as she tugged.

Clary turned toward Jace who was struggling on the ground with the other demon. She turned back to Isabelle and saw her grimace with the force she was putting forth to restrain the monster. It thrashed and bucked against her whip's hold. Clary gripped the cold steel hilt with determination and sprung forward, plunging the blade into the demon's chest. Ichor spilled out coating her hand and the handle in thick, black ooze. The creature fell to the ground, disappearing almost instantly. Clary met Isabelle's eyes for only a split second, but it was long enough to see the pride that glinted in them.

Isabelle whipped around to the battle ensuing behind her between Simon and whatever had him. Clary turned back to Jace. He was on his feet now, his shirt torn and bloody from a swipe he'd taken from the creature's claws. He spun around and landed a kick to the demon's chest, sending it flying and impaling it on a pole sticking out from the side of the building.

He ran up to Clary, his eyes searching for any injury. "You all right?"

She nodded before turning back to the other end of the alley. Isabelle lay unmoving on the ground near the wall, her whip coiled up a few feet away. Simon was hunched in the corner staring up at the creature before him, his face and body bloodied but healing.

Jace shoved Clary behind him as they both started toward the scene. At the sound of their approach, the humanoid being turned.

Clary's breath caught in her throat.

Eyes the color of blood met hers and stood out in stark contrast to its white skin. Its mouth and nose were elongated like a dog's snout and its vampiric fangs brushed against its bottom lip. Patches of black fur surrounded its neck and wrists. Oddly wolfish claws engulfed its hands. Clary felt as though she was frozen, her eyes locked with the creatures. Before she or Jace could react, the monster swiped at Simon's head, smashing it into the wall behind him. His eyes rolled back and his head drooped forward. In a motion quicker than Clary's eyes could comprehend, the creature scooped Simon up off the ground and shot down the alley.

"Simon!" she screamed as Jace took off after them. Clary felt as though she was stuck in a puddle of mud. She wanted to move but her legs wouldn't budge. A soft groan sounded from further down the alley, snapping her back to her senses. She hurried forward, stumbling upon Isabelle crumpled into a heap near the wall. Clary reached into her pocket and pulled out her stele. Touching the tip to Isabelle's inner wrist, she traced an _iratze_ into her flesh.

After a moment, she heard footsteps rushing toward them. She stood guard in front of a healing Isabelle, holding her blade tightly clasped in her fist. Her knuckles turned white against the hilt as the pounding came closer.

She didn't loosen her grasp until Jace rounded the corner, sweat dripping from his forehead and panting. Clary dropped the blade and rushed over to him. He was bent over, his hands on his knees, blood trickling from the wound on his chest. She reached back into her pocket again and pulled out her stele, quickly placing a healing rune on his arm.

Once he'd regained his composure, he looked up at her, his eyes conveying what she already knew.

She swallowed against the lump in her throat. "Simon?"

Jace closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head. "It was too fast. I'm sorry, Clary. He's gone."

Clary's knees went weak and she reached forward, twisting her hands into what was left of Jace's shirt to steady herself. His arms wrapped around her as she broke down, crying into his chest. First her mom, then Luke and now Simon. _Her_ Simon. When was it going to stop? But she knew the answer to that question, as much as it pained her she knew. It wouldn't stop. Not until it got everything it wanted. And she knew without a shadow of a doubt which thing she loved it would come for next.


	16. Chapter 16

****The characters of The Mortal Instruments are owned by Cassandra Clare. The original content, ideas and intellectual property of this story are owned by ddpjclaf, 2009. Please do not copy, reproduce, or translate without express written permission.****

Chapter Songs:

_Running Up that Hill by Placebo._

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Simon's head pounded to a beat not unlike the new song his band had recently started playing. Although, he'd take Eric's incessant arguments about band names over the pain throbbing through him at the moment. He raised his hand to touch the back of his head only to feel a slight jerk at his wrist. Glancing down, he noticed shackles circling his arms. "Great," he muttered while tugging uselessly at the chains embedded in the stone wall. "We're back to this now?" While studying the manacles, he spied the diagonal slashes across his favorite shirt. "Oh hell! That's the last time I'm wearing something I actually like when meeting up with those people. Every time I do it ends up ruined!" "Simon?" A faint, yet familiar voice drifted in from the cell next to his. "Simon, is that you?"

Simon squinted into the darkness, trying to make sense of what he'd heard, but all he saw was a large shape chained to the wall. "Luke?"

"Yeah, it's me." Luke's voice sounded pained.

"Luke!" Simon struggled against the chains. "What's going on? Where are we?"

"I have no idea where we are, but as for what's going on," Simon heard Luke stirring, "well, I think we're being collected."

"Collected? For what?"

"Simon, did you happen to see what attacked you?"

"Yeah, and it was super fugly."

"That," Luke winced, "is what I think we're here for."

"What are you talking about? What would that thing want us for?"  
"It doesn't. Whoever created it does."

"Okay, I'm not normally this slow but I have no clue what you're talking about."

"I saw what brought you in here. It was the same thing that attacked me. It was a hybrid vampire-werewolf. Someone is creating hybrids."

"Wow. That thing must have some serious self loathing issues seeing as vampires and werewolves are born with hatred for each other ingrained."

"It isn't just werewolves and vampires. They've got a faerie in the cell next to me."

"A faerie—wait . . . which one."

"I don't know, he says his name is Meliorn."

Meliorn. Simon knew that name, but how? Suddenly it dawned on him, Meliorn was Isabelle's faerie boy-toy and also the Queen's personal guard. The strongest and most apt faerie.

"So they're snatching supernatural creatures to make some weird hybrids? Since they've already made some I'm assuming there are more vamps and werewolves here?"

"No." Luke's chains rattled. "It's just us. For now."

"So they plan to get more?"

"I don't think so."

"Could you stop being so cryptic and tell me what you know?" Simon didn't usually get upset with Luke, but being chained in a dark, damp basement that smelled of rotten flesh didn't make him feel too friendly.

Luke sighed. "There's talk of adding to the collection, but not more wolves, vamps, or faeries. They're missing a warlock and a Shadowhunter."

"Of course!" Simon hissed, his mind finally wrapping around the concept. "This is what the Seelie Queen warned us about. Someone is collecting the strongest of the species, one from each the fae, werewolves, vampires, warlocks, and Shadowhunters. What she didn't know is what they wanted them all for."

"Well, I think it's pretty clear they want us to make these hybrids. And just as the Seelie Queen predicted, they're not interested in any old supernatural creature. They want ones that are special. Ones that stand out from the others. You can walk in the daylight. I was once a Shadowhunter. Meliorn is the strongest of the Queens guard. It stands to reason the other two will be something special as well."

Simon nodded to himself. "Magnus and Jace."

"Exactly."

"Okay, I get why they want you and me. Our 'conditions' can be passed on. But how can they use the others?"

"That, my boy, I have no clue about."

"Great. So until whoever this is decides to clue us in or kill us, we're stuck in this basement sitting in our own filth and smelling the reek of death?"

"Looks like it."

"Awesome. Just how I'd hoped to spend my weekend."

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Rain poured in streams down the window, obscuring any view to the street below. Regardless, Clary sat in front of it staring out into the nothingness. Her heart hurt, her mind was fogged over, and her head ached from crying. The tears had dried up a while ago, but that didn't stop the pain and fear from clenching in her chest. Simon, her best friend in the entire world, was gone.

She had no idea if he was even still alive—or undead as it were. If he was, was he hurt? If he wasn't, did he suffer? She couldn't stand to even think about it anymore, but she couldn't think about anything else. Either she thought of him, or Luke, wondering if the same thing had taken him.

The others seemed convinced the same vampire-werewolf creature was behind both disappearances. They said all the pieces fit, the vampire venom and the werewolf claws. The only thing they weren't sure on was the demon poison. But they seemed to think it was one in the same. Clary tended to agree.

When she wasn't fretting over Simon and Luke, she turned to thoughts of Jace. She knew in her heart that he wasn't safe. The Seelie Queen had told them outright he was the one they'd come for. As much as it killed her to lose Luke and Simon, she couldn't imagine the torment of losing Jace. She knew the rune she placed on him hid his essence, but what if whoever was behind this already knew who he was and the gifts he possessed? If she could trade places with him she would do it in a heartbeat.

Clary lowered her face into her hands, feeling the hot sting of tears forming again. Wiping her palms across her face, she stood and walked to her bed. She sat and opened the drawer on her nightstand. Her sketchpad lay on top. Pulling it out, she flipped it open. The first sketch she saw was the one she'd done of Jace with angel wings. Her lip quivered and a fresh batch of tears streamed down her cheeks. A flash of anger shot through her. She clutched the book in her fist and threw it against the far wall. Burying her face in her hands once more, she decided she needed to get out of there.

The hallway was empty when she exited her room. Jace was probably still with Maryse discussing the day's events. It was probably better; he didn't need to see her like this. His focus should be on keeping himself out of danger, not on her. Though she knew him well enough to know that wouldn't be the case. He would never put himself before her. But this time she wouldn't give him a choice. Until she could get herself together, she'd stay away from him. As hard as it would be, she'd do it.

Clary wandered through the halls, not really knowing where she was going until she reached the roof stairs. Without a second thought, she started up the steps, her footsteps echoing on the metal staircase. When she reached the top and flung open the door, she became very aware that she only wore a light t-shirt and jeans. No jacket and no shoes.

A cool blast of air raked over her skin causing goosebumps to rise on her exposed flesh. As strange as it may sound, she welcomed the numbing pain of the cold. Anything was better than what she felt inside. The loss, the fear. It was all-consuming and never ending.

Crossing the threshold, Clary stepped out into the stinging rain. Within seconds, her hair was soaked and hanging from her head in fiery strands. Water flowed over her face, obscuring her vision. Not that she could see through the tears in her eyes anyway. She raised her face to the heavens, relishing in the cool moisture washing away the tears and deadening the ache. If there was a God, she wanted more than anything to call out to Him and beg Him to swap her with Jace. She'd already lost so much, she couldn't lose him too. She wouldn't.

Lightning flashed, brightening the black sky and shadows around her. When it died away, only the illumination of a dim porch light shone over the rooftop. Clary stood half in and half out of the light. Water soaked through her clothing and ran down the skin underneath her shirt. Her breath billowed out in puffs of white in front of her. She didn't even care about the fact that she was trembling violently.

A patch of light spilled out behind her casting her shadow further onto the rooftop.

"Clary?" His voice seeped into her, warming her to her very core. "What are you doing out here?"

She didn't answer or turn around. Seeing him would make it hurt more, would make it more real.

"Clary?" His voice was quieter and right behind her. The hairs on the back of her neck stood out as his hand brushed her shoulder. A shudder shook through her. "What's going on? Why are you up here in the rain?"

"Jace," she spoke just above the sound of the rain hitting the rooftop. "Please. Please don't touch me."

"What? Clary, what are you talking about?" His hand didn't move from her shoulder and the heat radiating from it spread, filling her from that point out. "Why don't you want me to touch you?"

Tears spilled over her cheeks. "Because it makes me feel when you touch me. I want to stay numb, I can't stand it anymore."

"Can't stand what? Clary, look at me." His other hand clutched her shoulder.

"No!" She gasped, her body shaking harder from the addition of his touch. "I—I can't."

"Clary. You're really starting to freak me out." He whipped her around by the shoulders. "Tell me what's going on."

A sob escaped from her throat as she took him in. Water flowed from his blond curls, over his face and soaked his white t-shirt. His permanent black runes showed through the wet fabric. She wanted to touch him, to kiss him and feel that he was real because nothing else in her life felt real at that moment. She shook her head hard, telling herself she couldn't, not if she wanted to remain numb. Not if she wanted to avoid the inevitable pain it would cause when he left.

Jace placed his hands on her face and lowered himself until his eyes were level with hers. "Clary, please. Tell me what's wrong. Is this about Simon?"

Clary shook her head, more tears falling hot against her cold cheeks.

"Then what?"

She took in a shuddering breath and met his gaze. "You. You're going to leave, too."

"No. No, I'm not. I promise, I'm not."

"You won't have a choice! You saw that thing. You saw how fast it was and what it did to Simon." A sob shook her again. "You won't have a choice." She repeated and looked down at the ground, watching as puddles formed around their feet.

"Clary, look at me."

She raised her eyes slowly to his.

"I'm telling you right now that I'm not going anywhere." He brushed her wet hair out of her eyes. "I _promise_ you, I'll do whatever it takes to stay with you."

She reached up and wrapped her fingers around his wrists. "You can't promise me that, Jace. You can't fight this on your own. Even you need help sometimes."

"I wasn't planning on going this alone. I do have a little bit of common sense."

"Since when?" She half-laughed and sniffed through the tears.

"Since you." He smoothed his thumbs over her wet cheeks. "I never used to care what happened to me. It wasn't that I wanted to die, I didn't. I just didn't really care one way or the other. I figured it was all part of the job. Shadowhunters don't live a very long life and I just lived a day at a time, not worrying about the next. But now—now I think about those things. I think about you and how much it would hurt you. So I'm more careful now."

Clary reached up and moved the sopping hair from his eyes. "It wouldn't hurt me, Jace. It would _kill_ me. As much pain as this with Luke and Simon causes me—to even think about something happening to you—I can't even tell you how that feels because there are no words. You know how much Luke and Simon mean to me. I mean, Luke has been a father to me my whole life and Simon has been my best friend for as long as I can remember. I love them both and would do anything for them. And yet, just the thought of something happening to you, of you being gone, breaks me in a way I can't even describe." She lowered her eyes and swallowed. "I've seen you die once and even though I knew there was a battle being fought not far from us and that my mom, Luke, and Simon were there, the only thing I wanted to do was lie down beside you and die too."

"Clary—"

"Do you know why I didn't? Why I didn't just give up and die right there with you? It wasn't because of my mom, or Luke or Simon. It was because I knew that wasn't what you would want. I could picture you lecturing me, angry with me, and as much as I wanted to give in, I didn't want to disappoint you more. But this time—after everything that's happened between us—I don't know if I'd be that strong again."

"Yes, you would."

Clary shook her head. "I don't know. It's different now. _We're_ different now."

"I know." He pulled her forward and held her against him.

Even though they were both soaked and the rain continued to pour down on them, Clary felt warm and secure against him. She laid her head against his wet shirt and wrapped her arms around his back. He placed his lips to her hair and squeezed her to him.

"Aren't you scared at all?" she asked.

"No."

She raised her head and met his gaze. "How could you not be? You know it will be after you too."

"Because I've been doing this a long time and I've seen a lot of scary things. I've managed to survive so far—well, except that one time." He grinned.

"It's not funny, Jace."

"I know." His face was serious again. "I guess I'm not worried because I know I'm not alone. There are a lot of people here who have my back and now that we have an idea what we're dealing with we can be more prepared."

"Jace." She paused. "I want to help."

"No." He shook his head. "You're not ready."

"It doesn't matter whether or not I'm ready in whatever sense you think is ready. If it were up to you, I'd never be ready. You've made it a point to keep me safe from the moment you met me. Now it's my turn—my turn to help protect you."

"Protecting you is my job, Clary."

"And protecting _you_ is mine. Why can't you see that? I'm a Shadowhunter too. I have abilities just like you and whereas mine haven't been practiced as often I still have them. I can't sit back and watch, not now. Not when you're the one in trouble. You can't ask me to do that."

"Clary." He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw before opening them again. "Don't you think the thought of something happening to you kills me just as much? Can't you see why I can't let you do this?"

"Yes, I can see it, but you can't stop me. I won't let you."

"I can tie you to a chair. That would stop you."

"And I can curse you with a rune that makes it impossible for you to move."

"No you can't. No rune like that exists."

"Maybe not yet but I can try really hard to come up with one."

"Clary—"

"Listen," she placed her hands on his face, "we're just going to have to agree to disagree. I'm not sitting on the sidelines. I'm not standing by and watching them take everything I love. I just can't Jace."

Jace reached down and cupped her cheeks. "You're impossible, do you know that?"

"Yes. And I also know it's one of the reasons you love me."

"True. But I'm not going to let you put yourself in danger. You're not ready."

"Then I guess we're at a standstill."

"Clary—"

But she didn't let him finish. She pulled his face down to hers and crushed her lips to his, cutting off all his words. Her fingers hooked around the back of his jaw, holding him tight against her. The rain still poured down on them, causing his lips to slide against hers. She wasn't about to let him undermine her efforts. She would protect him, whether he liked it or not.

###

Simon stared into the darkness surrounding him. Even with his enhanced sight it was still darker than normal there. Not a single light source shone anywhere. The lyrics to _Ninety-Nine Bottles of Beer on the Wall_ flitted through his head. A never ending slew of annoyance, over and over again. He really hated that song.

A loud click sounded from further down the corridor of the cellblock followed by a cone of light, presumably from a flashlight. Footsteps echoed along the stone walls. Simon watched the progression of the light as it came closer to where he was held.

"We have obtained the daylighter, Master." A voice croaked.

"Excellent. Now only two are left. I want the warlock next. I must have his power and knowledge to ready the spell." Another voice spoke, a voice that was very familiar to Simon. But no matter how hard he tried to place it he just couldn't connect the dots. It was right there, at the forefront of his mind, begging him to put two and two together.

"Of course. But, what about the Shadowhunter? His skill is beyond any we have seen before and is well protected. He very nearly caught me with the daylighter."

"Of course he is, which is why he is the one. I have a plan in place for him. Don't worry. He will be where we want, when we want him."

The footsteps and light grew closer until they stopped outside of Simon's cell. The figure turned the light on Simon, causing him flinch away from the brightness.

"You're sure this is the daylighter?"

"He bears the mark, master."

The click of a lock and the screeching of metal reverberated through the cell as the door slid open. The shadow shrouded figure stepped in and came swiftly to stand in front of Simon. He crouched down and swept a hand across Simon's forehead."

"Ah, yes," he said, his familiar voice begging Simon to connect the pieces. "Very good."

Suddenly, the figure shifted the light, shining it upward to the ceiling and illuminating his own face in the process. Simon gasped as cold disbelief flooded through him. That face, he knew that face. It was shocking how similar it was—almost identical.

"I—" Simon squinted in disbelief. "I know who you are."

"Yes." The man smiled. "I figured you might."

Before Simon could utter another word, the man raised his flashlight and cracked Simon across the temple with it, plunging him back into the deep blackness.


	17. Chapter 17

**Alrighty, here we go with more! This is a bit of a transition chapter—sometimes we need those for story flow, so….Someone mentioned liking seeing the Jace/Jocelyn relationship, well there's a bit more of that here…;) Also, yep, a little mush, some playfulness, and then the transition into more plot for the next chapter. Not a lot happens, but I hope you will still enjoy it! There's a lot coming up in the next few chapters as we wind down to the end *cries*.**

**Chapter song: **_**Enjoy the Silence**_** performed by Anberlin (I like this version better than the Depeche Mode one). By the way, for anyone interested, there's a link to my playlist for this book in my profile and a play by play of which scenes/chapters go with each song. :D**

****As always, I own nothing but plot and interpretation (and Jace's black boxer briefs—yeah, those are mine!)****

* * *

Jace's fingers clutched the cold hilt of the dagger. His eye trained on the target as he pulled back and with a swift flick of his wrist, released the knife. It embedded itself three inches from its intended goal. Jace blew out a frustrated gust of air and stepped back, running his hands through his hair. He was losing it. She'd gotten to him and he knew it. Fighting had always been second nature to him, something he didn't need to think about. But now, his desire to stay with Clary overshadowed his earlier indifference when faced with danger.

He closed his eyes, stretched his neck from side to side and then opened them again, focusing on the bullseye. Holding his breath, he let the second blade slip through his fingers. This time the knife hit dead center. He hung his head for a moment in relief. He still had it. He just needed to quit thinking about Clary and what she'd said to him on the roof. Stepping forward, he pulled the daggers out of the board and moved back into position again. After pausing for a moment to get his bearings, he shot off all five daggers, one after another in rapid succession, every one hitting the very center circle.

"They weren't exaggerating about your skill."

Jace whipped around to find Jocelyn standing a few feet away, her bright green eyes studying him carefully. She'd entered the training room so quietly he hadn't heard a thing, which wasn't normal for him. He wasn't usually quite so unobservant. "Uh—". He realized he had no idea what to call her.

"Jocelyn. Just call me Jocelyn." She grinned as she took a few more steps toward him. "I figure that's easier than trying to remember all my aliases."

"Okay, Jocelyn." He swallowed against the dryness in his throat. "Are you looking for Clary? Because she's not—"

"No. I'm not looking for my daughter." Jocelyn stood just a foot in front of him now. Her dark auburn hair was gathered into a ponytail at the nape of her neck, free strands hung loose around her face. As different as she was, she still looked so much like her daughter it was hard for him to look at her and not think about Clary. "I was looking for you actually."

He raised his brows. "Me?" What could she possibly want from him?

She nodded and walked past him to the board, pulling his daggers out and fingering them carefully. Glancing up, she asked, "May I?" and held up the knives.

He nodded. "Sure."

Jocelyn turned toward the bullseye, donned her stance and whipped the daggers forward, landing two out of the five right in the middle. The other three embedded close by. She turned back to Jace and smiled. "I'm a little rusty. Though I could never get all five like you."

Jace shrugged and looked at the ground.

"Shyness is not a trait I expected from you, Jace."

He glanced up. "I'm not shy. I'm just wondering what you want with me, Jocelyn."

She nodded and placed her hands on her hips. "I guess I'd just like to talk to you for a moment if I could. My daughter seems to have quite a lot of—affection for you, and I figured I should get to know you."

"You didn't seem very interested in getting to know me when you were telling Clary how much like Valentine I was."

"Fair enough. I deserved that. It was wrong of me to make assumptions, but you have to understand . . . she's my baby. It's my job to protect her. That's the whole reason I left Idris in the first place, for her. That's the reason I put this world behind me. She may never forgive me for what I did, and I don't really blame her, but I had to do what I thought was best." She glanced down at her hands and then met his eyes again. "You know, she's never expressed an interest in boys before this. Not even with Simon. And . . . well, this just reminds me so much of me at her age. How it was with me and—and her father. I just don't want her to make the same mistakes I did."

Jace shifted on his feet and crossed his arms in front of his chest. He bit his lip to keep himself from saying something he'd regret.

Jocelyn sighed. "I'm not saying this right. It's not you, it's—"

He couldn't hold back any longer. Patience had never been one of his strongest attributes. "I get it. You think that because Valentine raised me, I must be just like him. That I'm incapable of actually loving someone and that I'll just end up hurting Clary. Am I close?"

"I'm sorry. I know it's unfair of me. It's just that Valentine was—"

"You don't have to tell me what Valentine was. I lived it. I remember how he'd dangle affection in my face and then snatch it back just when I thought I'd finally get it—like it was some sort of game. I remember how he'd act like he was giving me a gift, or a chance, and then take it away as soon as it was convenient for him. I remember how his voice sounded when he'd tell me I was weak and pathetic. And I remember what the back of his hand felt like against my cheek. I know what Valentine was like so there's no need to remind me." The words spewed out of him like a volcano erupting hot, molten lava. He didn't know why he was telling her these things. Maybe he wanted her to understand him. Maybe he was just sick of people looking at him like he was a monster too just because the man who raised him had been.

Jocelyn's eyes widened and he could have sworn he saw tears in them. She stepped forward and tentatively raised her hand to his cheek. "I'm so sorry. You didn't deserve that and had I known . . ." Her hand slipped from his face as she lowered her eyes to the ground.

"I didn't tell you that to gain your pity. I just wanted you to see that I understand how you feel about Valentine. I understand why you're so afraid for Clary, but I need you to see that I'm _not_ him. No matter how he may have raised me, I've never been him. I doubted that for a long time until Clary came and showed me who I really was. As much as maybe you don't want it to be so, I love your daughter and I will love her until the day I die—maybe even after that. I would never, ever hurt her."

"Jace? Mom?"

Jace turned toward the voice and found Clary, dressed in her training clothes and carrying a backpack, standing at the door to the training room. Her face was fixed in confusion as she stared at him and her mother. She started across the room to join them. Jace looked away and focused on Jocelyn again, surprised to find her not focused on Clary but on him, a look of wonder in her eyes. He wanted to ask what she was staring at but his attention was redirected when he felt Clary's tiny hand slip into his.

"Mom. What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be resting?"

Jocelyn's eyes stayed fixed on Jace's for a moment longer before she moved to Clary's and smiled. "I'm feeling much better. Staying in that bed another moment may have driven me insane." Her smiled wavered. "Actually, I came here to talk to Jace."

Clary's grip on Jace's hand tightened. "Why? I think you've already made it perfectly clear on your feelings about him."

Jocelyn looked down and nodded. "I know." She raised her gaze again and alternated looking at Jace and then Clary. "But—but I was wrong. I let my fear for you overshadow my better judgment." She focused on Jace then. "I never wanted Clary involved in this world. Never wanted her in danger. I blamed you for her insistence on staying here and I wanted to believe that you were using her so that maybe, one day, she'd leave. I was wrong. You don't look at her the way Valentine looked at me, like a piece of property or something that had to be controlled. I see that now, and I'm sorry I assumed you would."

"Mom." Clary released Jace's hand and stepped forward. "Do you really mean that?"

Jocelyn reached out and touched Clary's cheek. "I do. Clary I know that it's going to take time for me to earn your trust back, but I can't tell you how happy I am that you have people you can trust in the meantime. I never meant to hurt you. All I've ever wanted was to keep you safe. I should have known that was a fool's journey."

Clary lunged forward and smothered her mother in a hug. "Thank you. Thank you for saying those things. It means so much to me to hear them from you."

Jace stood back, feeling awkward witnessing the mother-daughter moment. He wanted to leave or to at least turn around and give them some privacy, but he felt oddly drawn to the scene. In all his life, he'd never experienced a bond like that, except maybe with Clary—but that was different too. The Lightwood's had always been good to him, but their family dynamic wasn't at all like Clary's and Jocelyn's. Maryse and Robert tended to parent at a distance. Emotion wasn't freely shared in their family. He didn't mind though, it wasn't like he was used to it to begin with.

Jocelyn stepped back from Clary, her hands pressed against Clary's shoulders. "I should go. I see you're ready to begin your daily training. I'm meeting with the others in a bit anyway." She leaned forward and kissed Clary's forehead. As she stepped past Clary, she paused next to Jace, placed her hand on his arm and looked up at him. Jace met her eye. "Thank you for taking care of my daughter when I didn't. I should have told you that in the beginning but my stubborn pride got in the way. You've kept her safe and taught her everything I should have. For that, I will be forever grateful." She glanced back at Clary, shot her a brief smile and turned toward the doors once more.

Jace watched her retreat and only turned back to Clary after her mother had exited the room. He thought he should probably say something, but his mouth wouldn't form the words. Again, he was left speechless—at least he knew where Clary had gotten the ability.

She glanced up at him, her face screwed into a suspicious expression.

"What?" he asked.

"What did you do to my mother?"

"What are you talking about? I didn't do anything to her."

She fought back a smile. "If you didn't do anything then why is she suddenly acting like she likes you?"

Jace shrugged. "I think you underestimate my charm. Most women can't resist me for long."

"Uh huh." She walked up to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. "That's one thing I've never misjudged. I just never thought it would work on my mother."

"Seriously, Clary, I didn't _do_ anything. We just talked. That's it."

She raised her brows. "Really? Somehow I don't believe that. Her ideals were so ingrained and I know how stubborn she can be."

"And that's unlike you how?"

"I'm being serious, Jace."

He looked down at her, her big emerald eyes staring up at him, begging for the answers. He sighed. "I think I just made her understand me a little better, that's all. I promise, I didn't do anything. I even sort of acted like a cocky jerk." He shrugged. "Maybe she likes that."

Clary laughed. "Jace, nobody likes that." Before he could answer, she stretched up on her toes and touched her lips to his. "Well, whatever you did or said, thank you. I knew it was only a matter of time before you weaseled your way into her good graces too."

"I don't 'weasel', Clary. I'm much too attractive for that."

"Oh for God's sake, would you just shut up and kiss me."

He frowned. "No, I don't think I will."

Clary opened her mouth in shock, and then snapped it shut. A glint of determination flickered in her eyes. She grasped him by the shoulders and jumped up, wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. "There, now you can't get away."

"You say that like I want to." He kept one arm underneath her and slid the other up her back, clasping his fingers around the back of her neck.

She closed her eyes and touched her forehead to his. "Jace, we should talk about last night. I don't like not being on the same page. I know it's normal for us, but with something like this . . . I just don't like us being so opposite. You need all the help you can get."

He lifted his chin slightly so he was looking right in her eyes. "Clary, if we talk about it we'll just argue and I don't want that. The only thing I need is right here." He squeezed her tighter. "It's all I'll ever need."

Before Clary could protest, he jerked his chin up further and caught her lower lip between his. She hesitated for only a brief moment and then melted in his arms. His hand tightened at the base of her neck and pulled her face to his. Her grip around him strengthened as their mouths met.

Jace didn't let the kiss linger. He knew if he did, he wouldn't be able to stop there. "Clary, we really should start training."

"What if I don't feel like training right now." Her lips slid to his ear.

Fighting against every urge he had to forget training, demons, psychotic vampire-werewolf beasts and continue kissing Clary, he pulled away. "If you're going to protect me you need all the training you can get."

She pulled back, her eyes wide. "You mean you're not going to fight me on this?"

He set her down in front of him. "No, but I knew that would make you stop."

She gasped and her mouth opened in a hurt expression. "Jace!" She pulled back and smacked him in the chest. "You're such a jerk!"

"I know. But you feel like fighting now, right?"

She narrowed her eyes. "You are so going down."

He laughed. "Sure. That'll be the day."

She growled at him and stalked over to the mat. Jace shook his head and laughed to himself as he followed. He wondered if he'd ever get tired of pushing her buttons. Somehow, he doubted it.

***

Jace worked Clary hard that morning. Every muscle in her body ached and she swore that she'd bruised at least a dozen bones. Normally she liked to tough it out, to feel the pain because it made her think she'd accomplished something. Not today. After a long hot shower, she wrapped herself in a towel and headed over to her dresser, grabbing her stele and tracing a quick _iratze_ on her inner wrist. Relief flooded over her almost instantly. She hoped someday she would be able to tolerate the pain a little better than she could now. When she thought about some of the beatings Jace, Isabelle, and Alec had taken in the past she shuddered. She'd had her share of injuries, but nothing near what any of them had taken on.

With a sigh, she slipped into a pair of jeans and a pink t-shirt that said GAMER GIRL—another of Simon's "gifts". Her heart panged at the thought of him. A soft knock at the door snapped her out of her thoughts.

She walked over and pulled it open. Jace stood there, clean and dressed, his hair still damp from his own shower. "Just wanted to see if you wanted some lunch. Izzy's not cooking—I checked."

Clary laughed. "Yeah, I just need to pull a brush through this mess." She pointed to her hair and then opened the door wider, gesturing for him to come in.

As she made her way over to the mirror, Jace stretched out on her bed, his hands behind his head. She grabbed a brush and started pulling it through her hair. "Just make yourself right at home why don't you."

"Thanks. I will." He smirked at her through the mirror.

She rolled her eyes. "Why do I like you again?"

"So many reasons. You want me to list them off? "Well first there's my—"

"No." She held up a hand and put the brush back down on her dresser. "That's quite all right. I'm not sure I'm up to a list of 'things Jace thinks are awesome about himself' today. I'm ready anyway." She walked over to the door.

Jace frowned before hefting himself off her bed. "That's too bad. I had a bunch of good ones too."

"Yeah. I'm sure you did," she said as she followed him down the hall to the kitchen.

When Jace opened the door, immediately something felt off. Alec sat at the table, his cell phone laid front and center before him and his head in his hands. Isabelle leaned over him, her hair forming a veil between her and them.

"What's going on?" Clary asked, sliding herself onto a stool next to Jace.

"Magnus hasn't called me back," Alec said, his voice hollow.

"Lover's spat?" Jace asked while shoving a handful of nuts in his mouth.

Isabelle glared at him.

"What?"

Alec looked up, his eyes tight and worried. "No. Ever since Idris he never fails to return my calls. He knows how mad that makes me."

"So, why wouldn't he call then?" Clary asked. "You don't think . . ."

Alec shook his head. "He's been preparing for them to come for him. He placed wards all over his place. Misdirection, protection, alarm, you name it and he placed it."

"Okay, then he's much more protected than the rest of us," Jace said. "So why are you worried about him not returning your call?"

"Calls. Five since yesterday morning." Alec let out a slow breath. "I don't know. Something doesn't feel right. Magnus is always so sure of himself. He never thinks he makes a mistake. What if he screwed up?"

Clary reached across the table and placed her hand on top of Alec's. An odd gesture she knew, it wasn't like she and Alec were ever really close, but she felt like he needed it then. "Do you want to go check on him?"

He glanced up at her, his eyes pained. "Is that stupid? I mean, he's the High Warlock. It's stupid, right?"

"No." Clary stood. "It's never stupid to worry about people you love. No matter how powerful they are—or think they are." She glanced at Jace. "Come on, we'll go with you."

Jace raised his brows at her.

"Yes." She stared him down. "I'm going too. I'm not letting you out of my sight—even to go to Magnus's."

He rolled his eyes and stood. "Fine."

Alec and Isabelle strolled out of the kitchen and headed toward the weapons room. Jace grabbed Clary's arm just before they entered the room. "You know I don't like this. Please don't do anything stupid, Clary. Just be careful."

"Right back at you." She pushed open the door, following Alec and Isabelle inside, leaving a frustrated Jace in the hall.

* * *

**Plot, plot and more plot to come! I may give you more of Jace in his underwear if you leave a review…just sayin… ;)**


	18. Chapter 18

**Ask and ye shall receive!! Mush, fluff, love, and Jace's underwear at your service…;). Thank you all so much for the encouraging words and kind reviews! It thrills me to know you all are enjoying reading as much as I am enjoying writing. Things are about to get crazy so we needed a good love scene before all that don't you agree? Yeah, I thought so. ;)**

**Songs were integral for this chapter. ESPECIALLY the song for Jace and Clary's scene. I could NOT have written it without that specific song.**

**For the first scene I used **_**HOTBLACK**_** by Oceanship.**

**For Jace and Clary's scene was **_**CUT**_** by Plumb. If you haven't listened to any of the other songs I've listed for this book you MUST listen to this one. Must. I'm telling you, do it. You will not regret it. I promise. You can find the link to my playlist in my profile. You can do what I do and just listen to it over and over and over as you read the scene, LOL!**

****As always, I own nothing but plot, interpretation and Jace's underwear (I'm not giving those up).****

****Now this is not lemony, but it is more….um, intense than last time so kiddies under 16, avert thy eyes!****

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By the time they'd reached the old industrial district where Magnus's converted loft was located, Clary wished she'd worn a heavier jacket. The weather hadn't improved much from the storms that had rolled through the city the night before. The rain had let up, for now, but a frigid wind had taken its place. It whistled through the alley, lifting loose trash and carrying the stench of the few still operating factories, garbage and cat pee through the air.

As they turned down the narrow avenue of old warehouses which were now used as residences, Clary could feel the shift in the atmosphere. It was faint but still there. A heaviness hung in the air. She couldn't quite describe what it felt like, but its presence was unmistakable. The mundane world around them remained completely unaware of anything amiss. Voices and laughter floated down from open windows above them. The smells of different meals being cooked intermingled with the unappetizing scents of the alleyway. For a moment, Clary longed for the days when she too stood oblivious to all the unbelievable facets the world held. For the time when she walked these same streets, laughing and screwing around with Simon, knowing that dangers lurked about but not having a single clue just how much she didn't know. Just how much she didn't _want_ to know.

The familiar red brick warehouse containing Magnus's loft loomed ahead. The closer they got, the thicker the air felt. It closed in around Clary, threatening to suffocate her.

Jace stopped just before they reached the entryway, lit only by the bare bulb hanging above. He turned to her. "Listen. If anything happens, and I mean _anything_, get behind me and stay out of the way."

Clary scowled.

"I'm serious, Clary. I know you think you're here to protect me and everything but I swear to God if you get yourself killed I will never forgive you. Furthermore, if you get me killed I will be very annoyed and will make it a point to come back and haunt you."

Clary rolled her eyes. "There's no such thing as ghosts, Jace."

"Nothing's impossible for me." He grabbed her by the shoulders, his eyes boring down on hers. "So do we have an understanding?"

She sighed. "Yes."

"It's clean you guys," Isabelle called from the entryway. In her hand, she held a sensor, its lights showing no activity. "No demons."

"Well that's something at least." Jace relaxed his grip on Clary and took her arm, dragging her with him to the doorway.

Alec's brows were furrowed. His mouth set into a hard line. "There are no wards here. He told me he set them up. Why are there none here?" He turned to them, his eyes filled with a fear Clary knew all too well.

Isabelle reached out and laid her hand on his arm. "Maybe he didn't place them out here. Maybe they're inside."

Alec shook his head. "He would never do that. He'd want the wards protecting him from much further out than that. This isn't right." He fumbled in his pockets until he located and pulled out a silver key. With shaking hands, he tried to put the key in the lock.

After several attempts, Jace's hand closed around Alec's. "Let me do it."

Alec looked up at him, took in a shaky breath and dropped the key into Jace's outstretched palm. Jace unlocked the door quickly and stepped inside the dank inner hallway. A set of rickety stairs stretched out before them. Jace mounted them quickly followed by Alec and Isabelle. Clary came up last, remembering not to touch the banister this time.

"The door is locked and looks undisturbed." Jace stuck the key into the lock and twisted. The door clicked open, the sound so loud in the silence it seemed to reverberate throughout the space. Jace pushed the door open slowly with one hand, waving Alec and Isabelle in front of him. When Clary approached, he reached out for her hand. She slipped hers inside his without hesitation and stepped over the threshold.

The sparsely furnished loft looked the same as it always did. Nothing seemed out of place or messed with in any way. The only thing the struck Clary was the unbearable pressure, even more evident there than outside the loft. "What is that?" She fidgeted in the uncomfortable heaviness.

Jace's eyes were wide and taking in everything in the room. "Dark magic." He walked further into the room. "As powerful as Magnus is there's no way whoever this is could get to him with the same creature that attacked the others. They'd have to use magic against him." He slid his finger along the countertop and then rubbed his pointer finger and thumb together. "This was some major stuff too. It even left a residue."

Clary shuddered and leaned closer into Jace. "It's so thick. I can barely breathe in here."

Jace nodded, his eyes frozen on something in the middle of the room. Clary followed his gaze and settled on Alec, standing stock-still, his eyes locked on the floor. Slowly they moved toward him. Something glittered near his feet. Just before they reached him, Alec dropped to his knees and reached forward, wrapping his hand around the shiny object. As Clary looked closer, she realized it wasn't an object at all but a piece of sequined fabric.

Alec rubbed the fabric between two fingers before glancing up at them, his eyes wide and shining. "This is from Magnus's shirt. The one he was wearing two nights ago." Alec lowered his gaze again. "I—I don't understand how they could take him. He's so powerful. Ho—how could anyone get to him?" His voice sounded flat, almost dead to Clary's ears.

Isabelle knelt down beside him and placed her hand on his shoulder. "I don't know, Alec. Whoever this is . . . it seems we've underestimated the power they have. If they can get to Magnus," her eyes rose to Jace, "then they can get to anyone."

Clary's chest clenched and she squeezed Jace's hand tighter in response. Isabelle was right. There was no way they could fight this thing, no way they could keep it from getting what it was after. If not even Magnus could stay out of its grasp then how could they keep Jace from suffering the same fate? The sickening fact was that they couldn't. He was the last piece of the puzzle, the last trophy to be won and when whoever this was came to claim their prize, there was nothing they could do to stop it. Not the Lightwoods, not her mother, not the other Shadowhunters and certainly not her. When it came for Jace, it would get him and she would lose him again. Maybe this time forever.

***

Rain pummeled against the glass pane of the window and intermittent flashes of light flickered across Clary's room, brightening everything for only seconds before plunging the world back into darkness. She stared at her ceiling, watching the blackness, letting it fill her and hide the dread she felt inside. The look on Alec's face was burned into her mind, a reminder of what she was soon to face. She longed for the numbness she'd felt after Simon disappeared, but her soul refused to cooperate and wept louder every second. Crossing her arms over her chest, she rolled over onto her side and curled up into a ball, trying desperately to hold herself together. Fear clawed at her insides, shredding everything in its path into bleeding strips. She wanted it to stop, the panic, the pain, all of it. She wanted to feel hope, but there was none left inside of her. It didn't help to tell herself that he was still there, still safe. Somehow it felt worse knowing it was coming instead of having already happened.

She didn't know how long she lay there in the dark before the knock came at the door. Closing her eyes, she said, "Come in."

The door opened and light spilled in from the hallway before it clicked shut again. She didn't need to look to know who it was. She felt him the moment he entered the room, she always could. It was like his being called out to her, letting her know whenever he was near. He didn't speak and made his way to the side of her bed, sitting on the edge. Looking down at her, he moved aside the hair from her face, tucking it back behind her ear. His eyes met hers and she could tell he felt it to. The inevitability of it all. His fingers brushed her cheek and a sob clenched in her chest, causing her to spasm inward as the tears broke free and fell down her face. Jace leaned down and pressed his forehead to hers, still not speaking. Unable to restrain any longer, Clary gasped and threw her arms around his neck. He wrapped his around her and pulled her up with him.

She buried her face into the crook of his neck. "I'm so scared. So scared."

"I know." His hand was in her hair, holding her against him. "I'm sorry. I wish I could take it away."

"There's nothing we can do is there? Nothing—"

"I don't know. But they've got a whole group of Shadowhunters to babysit me so it won't make it easy on whoever this is."

"But after everything, do they really think that will work?"

Jace sighed and pushed her back, cupping her face so he could look at her. "I don't know."

Clary closed her eyes as another set of sobs raked through her body.

Jace pulled her face to his. "Please, Clary. Please don't be afraid." The desperation in his voice just made her weep harder.

"I—I just—I just want it to go away. Make it go away, Jace." She clutched his jacket and cried into his chest.

He pressed his lips to her head. "I don't know how. Tell me how and I'll do it. I'll do it, whatever it is."

Clary raised her head; her cheeks stained with tears, and met his eyes. "Make me forget, Jace. Just make me forget everything. I don't want to be afraid. I don't want to be sad. Please, just make me forget."

"How?" The look on his face broke her even further.

She twisted her fists tighter in his jacket and pulled him forward, pressing her lips to his. Relief flooded through her as he surrendered to her kiss. The taste of him filled her with a need so absolute it obliterated any trace of the fear that had plagued her before. She suddenly no longer felt alone, no longer felt hopeless. She felt alive and unafraid. Her hands traveled up his chest and under the top of his jacket. She worked her way across his shoulders and down his arms, slipping the jacket off and dropping it to the floor.

Inching closer, she rose to her knees and swung one over him so she was straddling his lap. Her fingers trailed through his soft curls and then traced the lines of his face. He held her face to him, kissing her like she was air he needed to breathe. Her body ached with need, need to touch him, need for him to touch her. Her mind cleared of everything else, just like she wanted. She let herself fall deeper and deeper into him, not once worrying or thinking about anything else.

Her hands fell from his face and found the bottom of his shirt. Suddenly, needing there to be nothing between them, she lifted it up over his head. Her eyes fell to him as another flash of lightning illuminated the room, throwing shadows and light over every plane of his body. She lowered her trembling fingers to him, wanting to commit to memory every scar, every line. His hand traveled down her arm until it was over the hand she was touching him with. Slowly, he moved it across his chest and laid it over his heart. Clary felt it beating underneath firm muscles. It beat hard and strong, and all for her.

She raised her gaze to his and the look in his eyes made her want to cry again, not out of fear or sadness, but happiness. He loved her. With every fiber of his being, he loved her. The way he looked at her, the same way she looked at him, told her that. She slid off from his lap and stood before him. Reaching down, she took his hands and pulled him up with her.

As he stood before her, she placed her hands on his sides and stepped forward, laying her forehead against his chest, touching him, breathing him in. In that moment they weren't Shadowhunters, they weren't being hunted down, they were just Jace and Clary. Nothing more and nothing less. His hands ran up under the back of her shirt as his lips pressed against the top of her head. She raised her arms with his progression up her back, allowing him to lift the shirt off from her body and toss it to the floor with his.

Wrapping her arms around his waist, she pressed herself to him, relishing in the warmth radiating off from his body and filling hers. "Jace," she whispered and raised her eyes to his. "I'm not afraid anymore. When I'm with you, just you, I'm not afraid."

He didn't answer; he just cupped her face in his hands and pulled her lips back to his. Her fingers trailed down his back, ending only at the top of his jeans. Slowly, she traced along them until she reached the snap. With a quick movement, she jerked it open, pulled down the zipper and moved to push them off his hips. His breath caught as they slid down his legs and hit the floor. He stepped out of them and kicked them across the room, taking no time to relieve Clary of her jeans as well. They stood there, clinging to each other as if they may never touch again, the only thing between them were a pair of boxer briefs and boyshort panties.

Jace bent down and lifted Clary up, kicking her pants out of the way with his. She wrapped her legs around his waist and ran her hands up into his hair, holding herself tight against him. He sat back on the bed with her still in his lap. She lowered her mouth to his once more, taking all she could get from him.

"Jace," she whispered against his lips. "Hold me tighter. I need you to hold me tighter."

His arms tightened around her. She cried out softly as the aching need inside her lessened just a little. His lips trailed from hers across her jaw and down her neck, leaving trails of fire in their wake. Her body trembled under his careful touch. He was always so gentle with her, like he thought he might break her if he wasn't.

When she felt like she couldn't take it any longer, he flipped her over onto her back, his body pressing into hers. He ran his hands along her arms, raising them above her head and entwining his fingers with hers. As he ran his lips along her cheek, he stopped at her ear and whispered, "I love you," before trailing the rest of the way down her neck and leaving small kisses along her collarbone.

She wanted to answer him. Wanted to exclaim how much she loved him, needed him, wanted him, but she couldn't speak. She could barely breathe. The only things she was aware of were his lips brushing against her skin, his hands locked inside hers, and his body flush against her. Her mind couldn't comprehend anything else but Jace, and she was all right with that. For that moment, he was all she needed.

* * *

**Sigh. I'm gonna miss those underwear…*sniff*. Still want reviews though…even if just to tell me how much you love his underwear too…;)**

**OH! Since I've been asked several times, yes, Jace and Clary are ALWAYS protected. ;) Would you expect any less from Jace seeing how protective he is of Clary? There will be no baby Jace's in the near future. *smooches*  
**


	19. Chapter 19

**Okay, here we go! I don't know how many chapters are left *tear*, I'm thinking at least 5, maybe a couple more if I can stretch it out. I'll see what I can do. :P. **

**Again, thank you to all my loyal readers. You know all these chapters are for you! This may be the last mush we have for a bit so enjoy it!**

**Chapter songs:**

**First part: **_**Innocence**_** by Avril Lavigne.**

**Second part: **_**To Lose my Life**_** by White Lies.**

*****As always, I own nothing but plot and interpretation (and yes, still Jace's underwear, which do make a slight appearance in this chapter – though not in the place they're meant to be…;) )*****

With the morning came an end to the rain and the welcome brilliance of sunshine filtering through the blue gauzy curtains. Clary stretched and opened her eyes, squinting against the brightness. For a moment, she wondered why she was sleeping on the very edge of her bed and then she remembered. Turning toward the center of the bed, a small grin tweaked her lips. He was still there and still asleep. Of all the times she'd slept in the same bed with Jace, he had always woken before her. She carefully rolled over on her side, tucking her hands under her face and peered over at him. There were never enough chances for her to just look at him, to take him in, to study him. He'd always give her a strange look or smirk at her when he caught her. As much as she loved those gestures, sometimes she just wanted to look, absorb.

He lay on his stomach, his arms hooked up under the pillow and his face turned toward her. The sheet was bunched down, covering only the lower half of his body. Black permanent runes were scattered over his back and shoulders along with pale reminders of others that had long since faded. Some might see the marks and scars and think them imperfections, but Clary didn't think so. To her, they were a part of him, which made them beautiful in her eyes.

Her eyes followed his form, taking in everything, knowing that soon he would wake and she'd be forced to stop. When she settled on his face, her breath hitched in her throat. None of his carefully composed wall existed then. Everything he'd built up around himself was stripped away in sleep. He looked content, peaceful—innocent. Not like a boy who had seen and experienced the things Jace had.

Clary scooted over as close as she could get without disturbing him. The shifting sunlight mingled with his hair, revealing more than just the dominant golden tone. Strands of very light and darker gold mixed with it making it appear to shine as it did sometimes. Each of those strands fit together forming the large soft curls that lay in disarray over his head. One had come to rest across his cheek, which Clary had the urge to move, but resisted as to not wake him.

Moving her gaze across his face, she rested on the long, dark eyelashes that curled up and brushed the top of his cheek. Why did boys always get perfect lashes? It was extremely unfair, Clary thought, it wasn't even like they needed them. Shaking off the twinge of jealousy over the fact that he had better lashes than her, she continued down his face coming to rest on his mouth. Oh, that mouth. That devilishly flawless mouth. It didn't matter whether he was frowning, smiling, throwing out sarcastic remarks, or pressing them to hers, those lips drove her absolutely insane.

"You're staring at me again," he said, his eyes still closed.

Clary moved closer and he draped one arm over her pulling her nearer still. "How do you even know that? Your eyes aren't even open."

"It's a highly developed skill. You wouldn't understand." His mouth quirked up into a half grin.

"Whatever." She laid her forehead against his and reached up to push aside the stray curl she'd wanted to move earlier. "You're so full of crap."

He smiled wider.

Clary lay there for a few more minutes just watching him. She could have done that all day—if she weren't starving to death. "Jace," she whispered to his half sleeping form.

"Hmm?"

"I'm starving so I'm going to go get something to eat. Do you want anything?"

"Mmm hmm."

She laughed softly and brushed her lips against his forehead. "Okay. You can just stay here and continue to be lazy. I'll get breakfast."

"Sounds like a plan." He grinned again.

Clary could no longer resist that delicious mouth and leaned down pressing hers to his. His hand moved from her waist to her face as he returned the kiss. She felt the overwhelming urge to forget food and just stay there, but her stomach had other ideas and growled loudly. "Ugh," she groaned and pulled away from him. He chuckled and tucked his arm back up under the pillow, never having opened his eyes since half-waking.

Clary sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She scanned the room for her clothes finding everything but her jeans.

"Next to the wall behind the chair." Jace's voice came from behind her. She whipped around, but his eyes were still closed. He hadn't moved an inch. Walking over to the wall, she picked up his jeans and hers. With incredulity, she turned back to him. "How could you possibly know what I was looking for—and further more where they were—when you aren't even looking?"

"I told you. It's a gift. I'm amazing—I don't know why you keep forgetting that."

Clary slipped the jeans on, gathered up his clothes, and then deposited them at the end of the bed. "Go back to sleep, Jace. I'll be back in a few."

His chuckle followed her out the door. She shook her head and leaned against the cool wood. Did he realize what he did to her? Drove her insane—yes—but in both good and bad ways. He liked to joke about his awesomeness, but she got the feeling that he didn't really believe it—well, maybe some of it, but not all. He left her completely in awe much of the time. She wondered if he had any clue at all how amazing he really was.

After a moment, she pushed away from the door and continued down the hall to the kitchen. Passing Isabelle's door on the way, she paused when she saw it was open. She knocked on the outer and called out, "Izzy?"

Isabelle's face appeared in the opening of the door. "Hey, what are you doing up so—" She glanced back at the clock. "Oh, I guess it's late not early." She sighed. "I've been up pretty much all night with Alec."

"How is he doing?"

Isabelle shook her head. "How do you think he's doing? Probably the same as you would be."

Clary lowered her gaze to the floor.

"Hell. I'm sorry, Clary. I didn't mean it like that. I'm just—well, I'm just really tired and I'm not thinking straight."

Clary met her eyes and shrugged. "It's okay."

"No. No it's not." She stepped out of her room and closed the door behind her. "I know you've been worried. But you don't have to now. Mom called in a bunch of Shadowhunters. We're going to figure this thing out and we'll keep Jace safe."

"Yeah, he told me that—except he called them babysitters." Clary grinned.

"That sounds like him." Isabelle frowned. "Where is he anyway?"

"Sleeping. I was just going to get some breakfast."

"Why is he still sleeping anyway? He's normally the first one up."

Clary shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant, but her burning cheeks gave her away. "I guess he was just tired."

Isabelle chuckled. "Yeah. Sure."

Clary knocked her with her hip before grinning herself.

"Well, I hate to tell you this, but the kitchen's empty. Mom hasn't had a chance to go shopping with all the extra Shadowhunters here and everything that's been going on. I was just going to Taki's to get some stuff. I could pick something up for you. Or, you could come with me if you feel like getting out of here?"

Clary definitely felt like getting out of the Institute, but she wasn't sure Jace would like it if she left without him, and there was no way she wanted him outside of the Shadowhunter's protective watch. "I don't know." She glanced down at her bedroom door.

"Come on Clary. Its daylight—you know—no demons. Plus, you'll be with me." She grinned. "I'm more than capable of taking on anyone that would try anything during the day."

Clary smiled and shook her head. "Okay. Just let me go tell Jace."

Isabelle rolled her eyes.

"Izzy, you know he'd freak if I left and he didn't know where I was. Then he'd go off all half-cocked and get himself in trouble."

"God, he's so annoying. How can you stand it?"

Clary laughed. "He has plenty of good qualities that outweigh the annoying ones." She opened the door to her room. Jace lay exactly where she left him, in the exactly same position.

Isabelle raised a brow. "So I see."

"Izzy! Close your eyes." Clary rushed over to the bed while Isabelle made a big show of covering her eyes with a hand.

"It's not like I _want_ to see anyway."

Clary carefully pulled the sheet up to cover his back and then turned back to Isabelle. "Okay, we're good."

Isabelle peeked through her fingers and when she saw all was clear, she lowered her hand. "You know, I've seen Jace shirtless before—you've said so yourself—" Her eyes fell to the pile of Jace's clothes Clary had placed at the end of the bed before she'd left the room. Isabelle's eyes widened. "Oh! You mean he's—? Ew!"

"Shut up, Izzy! You're going to wake him up," Clary whispered as she glanced around the room, looking for her sketch pad. She spied it against the wall, just where she'd thrown it earlier. Grabbing a pencil, she walked over to it. She scribbled a note across a blank page and placed the pad next to Jace before leaning forward and kissing his forehead.

"You know, all this ooey-gooey love crap really makes me want to vomit," Isabelle said as Clary ushered her from the room, closing the door behind them.

Clary laughed. "No it doesn't. Somewhere under all that toughness and awesome clothing is a total romantic and you know it."

Isabelle sighed and jabbed the down arrow on the elevator. "Is it that obvious?"

Clary held her hand up, her thumb and pointer held parallel to each other with only an inch of space between them. "A little bit."

Isabelle leaned up against the side of the elevator, her arms crossed over her chest. "Do you know how much I wish someone would look at me the way Jace looks at you, or the way Alec looks at Magnus?"

Clary looked down at the floor, her heart clenching at the thought. "Someone has looked at you that way." She glanced up and caught Isabelle's confused expression.

The doors slid open and the two girls stepped out. It wasn't until they'd walked out into the bright sunlight that Isabelle got it. "Oh. You mean Simon?"

Clary nodded, the tightening in her chest growing worse the more she thought of him.

"I don't know, Clary. I never thought he really cared about me like that. I mean, he broke it off with me, remember?"

"Isabelle, as Simon's best friend, I know him better than anyone. He had it bad for you. It's just that—well, Simon has always been really self-sacrificing when it comes to people he cares about. He'd sacrifice his own feelings and happiness if he thought that was best for the other person."

Isabelle turned to her. "Why would he think staying away from me would be better for me?"

They crossed the street, waved hello to Clancy and stepped through the doors to Taki's. Taking a booth near the back, Clary reached out and took Isabelle's hand. "Because he's a vampire. He figures he has nothing to offer you. He'll never grow old, never change. Plus there's that whole blood drinking thing which is kinda gross."

Isabelle stared at the back wall. "I wouldn't have cared about those things. He should have talked to me."

Just then, the pixie waitress sauntered up to the table, her disappointment about the absence of Jace was evident on her face. "You know what you want or do you need a few minutes?"

Isabelle rambled off a big to-go order, to which Kaelie huffed and whipped back around to the counter.

Clary let out a slow breath and focused on the passerbys out the window. Suddenly, she saw something she couldn't believe. She gasped and shot up out of her seat, rubbing her eyes.

"Clary? What—"

"I—I saw—" Without another thought she bolted over to the door and out into the street, her head whipping in both directions, looking for the impossible.

Isabelle burst out the door. "Clary, what the hell is going on?"

"Isabelle, it's—" Before she could finish, she spotted him a block ahead. Dark hair, skin as pale as snow, and the mark adorning his forehead. "Simon!" Clary took off down the street, running faster than she thought possible.

"Clary!"

She heard Isabelle call from behind her, but she didn't stop. She couldn't. It was Simon. She was sure of it. Her heart thudded in her chest as she ran to where she'd seen him. Why didn't he wait? Didn't he hear her calling?

When she reached the corner, she saw him duck down an alley half way down the block. She ran, tripping over annoyed mundanes, and her lungs burning from the lack of oxygen. But she didn't care, she could breath later. She had to catch him, had to see him, to know he was okay, that he was real. She didn't even stop to ask herself why he wouldn't answer her calls or why he'd turned off the street in the first place.

She reached the alley a few moments after she saw him turn down it, and there he was, near the end, walking away. She called to him again. "Simon!"

This time he paused and turned toward her. Her heart nearly stopped as she took him in. It was him, it really was. Tears flooded her eyes and she ran toward him, not stopping until she'd flung her arms around his neck.

"Oh, Simon! I thought you were gone, that you were really dead!" She didn't register the fact that he didn't hug her back, that he just stood there, unnaturally still.

"Clary." Isabelle's voice came from just behind her. "Step away from him, now."

"What?" Clary cried into Simon's neck. "It's Simon, can't you see that? It's Simon."

"Yes, I see that. But Clary, please just listen to me. You need to back away, right now."

Clary loosened her grip on Simon's neck and turned to Isabelle. Her breath catching at the look on Isabelle's face and the fact that she held her whip loose at her side. "Izzy?"

Isabelle's eyes flicked back up to Simon. Her stance stiffening into battle mode.

Clary slowly turned back to him, meeting his eyes for the first time. They stared back at her, but they weren't his eyes. Not the playful, full of life eyes she was used too. These were flat, hazed over and dead looking. Clary took a step back. "But—but it's him. Izzy, it's him."

"He's under a spell, Clary. Just—"

Before Isabelle could finish, Simon's arm shot out and grabbed Clary around the throat, lifting her off her feet. She gagged against the pressure, no air passing into her lungs. Isabelle flicked her whip out and it wrapped around Simon's arm. He dropped Clary to the ground, gasping and fighting to breathe. In a motion quicker than her eyes could comprehend, Simon grasped Isabelle's whip and flung it along with Isabelle over his head and into the wall beside him. Isabelle crumpled to the ground and lay unmoving in a heap. Clary tried to stand, but before she made it half way up, Simon was there, his hands gripping her shoulders tightly.

"Simon, what are you—"

Simon jerked her forward and sunk his fangs into her neck. She screamed as they ripped into her skin and a painful pulling sensation resonated from the site. She struggled against him but it was no use, his grip was like iron. After a moment, her head started to spin. Her legs weakened beneath her and she sagged against Simon. A single tear fell down her cheek as she fought for the last pinprick of light remaining in the surrounding darkness. She pounded against his chest with a few feeble strikes before the blackness engulfed her completely, leaving her limp and damaged in the arms of her best friend.

**Sorry dudes, cliffys are going to be pretty prevalent in this last part, so you're gonna have to deal…;) You'll still love me though, right?**


	20. Chapter 20

**First of all a big thank you to those who sent reviews…they keep me so motivated! Well, we're getting there! Please don't be discouraged by the cliffy's. I apologize for leaving you hanging, but I promise it won't be for long! Unfortunately, cliffhangers are kind of the way to write climaxes. Sigh. So if you promise you'll still love me, and love the cliffy's, then I promise not to keep you waiting too long. Deal?**

**We're going to see a bit of a Jace freak-out here. He always seems so cool about everything, but not when his love is taken, sorry, but not even he can stay cool then! So anyway, I hope you enjoy! Make sure to leave a review!**

**Chapter Songs: (link to playlist in my profile)**

_**Ironic **_**by Alanis Morrisette (Scene 1 – Isabelle)**

_**Blurry **_**by Puddle of Mud (Scene 2 – Jace)**

*****As always, I own nothing, just plot, interpretation, and any of Jace's clothing (since as one of you so correctly pointed out…if I own it, I can decide whether or not he wears it! ;) )*****

* * *

Isabelle groaned into the filth covered pavement. She lifted a hand to her pounding head. It came away sticky and red. Her mouth filled with thick, metallic tasting liquid. She turned her head and spat a mouthful of blood into the dust and grime. Pushing herself up to a seated position, she surveyed the alley. It spun in front of her eyes causing a fit of nausea to curl her stomach. She groaned again and reached into her pocket, pulling out her stele and hastily drawing an _iratze _on the inside of her wrist. The dizziness subsided and the pain in her head lessened. She pushed herself to stand and glanced down the alley, her eyes falling on the puddle of blood a few feet away. Walking over to the spot, she knelt down and dipped a finger into it. Still warm. She stood, wiped the blood on her shirt, picked up her whip and wrapped it around her wrist.

"Crap," she muttered to herself as she laced her hands behind her head. "It figures this would happen when she was on my watch." She blew out a frustrated breath. "Jace is going to kill me."

Her hands fell to her sides as she hung her head. "Damn it."

After tracing a rune of invisibility on her forearm to hide her bloody head from passing mundanes, she turned on her heel and raced back down the alley. No use in postponing the inevitable, if he was going to murder her, she'd rather get it over with.

***

Jace reached over to Clary's side of the bed, expecting to feel her soft, warm skin, but instead got a handful of stiff, rough paper. He lifted his head and glanced around the room, his eyes settling on the sketch pad on her pillow. Rising up on his elbows, he snatched the pad and looked over the note written in Clary's hand.

_Jace, Went to Taki's to get some food. Don't freak out—daylight=no demons—remember? Plus, Izzy's with me and we both know she could kick some major mundane butt if they needed it. See you soon. Love you, Clary._

He tossed the pad down next to him and climbed out of the bed. Coming around the front, he spied his pile of clothes and threw them on. As much as he didn't like Clary leaving without him, he was glad at least she'd been sensible enough to go in the daylight, and that Isabelle went with her. But that didn't mean he wouldn't give her a piece of his mind when she returned. Besides, for once it wasn't her they were after but him. If all that were true, why did he feel so uneasy about her being out there? _Because you're a self-important ass who thinks no one can protect her but you._ He thought to himself.

Grabbing his jacket, he opened the door a crack and peered down the hall. The last thing he needed was to get caught coming out of Clary's room. After seeing that the hall was empty, he backed out, closed the door quietly and started down the hall to his own room.

"Hold it," a voice called behind him.

He froze in midstep, closed his eyes, and cursed under his breath. Turning around slowly, he met the eyes of the one person he really didn't want to face. "Morning, Jocelyn."

"Jace," she said, staring up at him with an expectant look.

After a few moments, the uncomfortableness of her stare got to him. He wasn't normally the type of person to have to fill the silence, but her looking at him like that had him feeling a little twitchy. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"Oh, I think you know what I want." She crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot.

He swallowed and thought quickly about what to say. He didn't think it would go over too well to tell her he'd spent the night doing things she would probably have him hunted down for and that he was just getting up, so he figured he could maybe smooth it over by saying, "Clary's not here. She went for breakfast with Isabelle."

"Oh." She uncrossed her arms and loosened her stance. "Well, when you see her, can you tell her I was looking for her? I'm sure she'll come to find you before me."

"Sure thing." He turned, breathing in relief as he started back down the hall.

"Oh, and Jace?"

He stopped again and looked behind him. "Yeah?"

Jocelyn's hands were on her hips and her face held no amusement. "The next time you sneak out of my daughter's room in the morning, you may want to make sure your shirt is right-side-out—if you'd like to maintain your innocent routine that is." She spun on her heel and disappeared into a room a few doors down from Clary's.

He stood there for a moment, his mouth slack and his eyes wide. Absently, he reached up and touched the front of his shirt. As he looked down, he noticed that it was indeed inside out. "Hell," he exclaimed under his breath before slinging his coat over his shoulder and continuing on to his room.

Once inside, he threw his jacket on the bed and ripped the shirt off his back, tossing it to the corner. Shaking his head, he chuckled to himself and then rubbed his hands over his face. How could he have put his shirt on inside out? He was normally so smooth, so together. He'd been distracted, that's why. Distracted by Clary's absence. By the fact that he wasn't with her, that he couldn't protect her. No matter how he spun it, he was always the best man for that job. He knew how she tended to put herself in situations where she needed rescuing. Not that he thought she did it on purpose. It was almost as if danger was attracted to her.

He started toward the dresser to grab a new shirt just as a knock sounded at the door. Grabbing the first shirt his hand touched, he threw it over his head and went to the door. When it opened, he found Alec, face pale and dark shadows under his eyes, peering at him.

"Mom wants you in the library, now," he said, his voice flat.

Jace sighed. Apparently, Jocelyn couldn't keep a secret for even two minutes. He stepped out the door and walked with Alec down the hall. He thought he should probably say something, ask how Alec was, but he didn't know what to say. Jace wasn't a touchy-feely type of guy and he didn't know how he would react to any emotion Alec showed. What if he cried? Jace knew he couldn't handle that. What would he do then? Hug him, pat him awkwardly on the back? Yeah, no. So, he did what any horrible best friend would do—he said nothing.

Jace and Alec entered the library to find not only Maryse and Jocelyn, but about a dozen more Shadowhunters standing near the back of the room. He frowned, wondering if all these others were here to witness his chewing out as well.

"Jace, good you're here," Maryse beckoned him forward.

Odd, that didn't sound like her scolding voice.

"Why don't you sit?" She gestured to one of the chairs.

He walked past her and Jocelyn and settled into the nearest one, glancing up at them expectantly.

Maryse came to stand in front of him. "I told you last night that I've brought in a group of Shadowhunters to assist us with your protection."

He nodded. "The babysitters, right. I haven't forgotten."

"Well, these are them." She swept her hand in front of her indicating the group behind him.

He turned briefly, his gaze running over the crowd. "Yeah, so?"

Maryse narrowed her eyes. "Listen here. I know you, Jace, so I know how—difficult you can be. These people are here for your safety so I expect you'll treat them with respect."

He sat forward, his elbows on his knees. "Is this what you called me in here for? To give me a speech on etiquette to my babysitters? Really, don't you think I have any sort of civility that I couldn't figure that out for myself?"

Maryse's jaw clenched. He was being a pain and he knew it, but it was fun getting a rise out of her. "No. I called you in here to give you the rules."

He sat back in the chair, entwined his hands and then tapped his pointer fingers against his lips. "Rules. Yeah, not really fond of those."

"I don't care what you're fond of. So here they are. Rule one: you will not leave this Institute unescorted for any reason. I don't care if it's just to stretch your legs or take a breath of fresh air."

"Could the air here really be considered fresh? Because I never—"

"Rule two:," she continued over him, "you will not go on any hunting missions until this threat is taken care of."

"But—"

"No buts Jace, and to insure you don't try to go out on your own, your weapons belt is being confiscated as we speak."

"You can't be serious." He gripped the side of the chair, preparing to stand.

"Sit. Down," she ordered.

He made a big show of slumping back into the chair.

"I know how stubborn you are, Jace, and even with your life on the line you'll risk everything everytime. But, we can't chance whoever this is getting to you, especially considering the creatures they have already created. There's no telling what they want you for. You seem to be the last piece in their so-called collection and there's no way we're going to allow them to complete it. So, there will be Shadowhunters posted at every exit and entrance to this Institute, and even outside your bedroom door. Their job is to make sure _you_ stay put."

"So, basically I'm a prisoner in my own home?"

"If that's how you want to see it, so be it. But this isn't just about you. If whoever this is gets their hands on you it could be catastrophic to us all."

"Great. I'm glad the concern for me is so great."

"Jace, we _are_ concerned for you."

"I know that. Too much so, I think. You're going about this the wrong way." He sat forward. "You have what they want." He spread his arms wide. "Why not use it. Use me. Let them find me, lead us to the ones behind this. It's our best chance."

"No. We won't risk your life. We won't risk whatever it is they're planning to do with you. We'll find another way."

"Don't you get it? There _is_ no other way."

"Jace—" Maryse began but was interrupted by the door to the library slamming open. Isabelle stood in the frame, her face pale and glistening with sweat. Her dark hair plastered to her head on one side and blood smeared across her cheek.

"Jace." She stepped into the room, her wide eyes landing on him, and he knew. Just from the look on her face, he knew.

He jumped to his feet, crossed the room quicker than humanly possible and grasped Isabelle around the top of her arms. "What happened?"

"Clary—she's—gone—" Isabelle fought for words.

Jace gripped her tighter. "What happened? Where is she Isabelle?"

"Ow! Jace—you're hurting me!"

"Tell me where she is, Isabelle!" he yelled, shaking her. He felt someone grab his shoulder, jerking his hands from Isabelle's arms. Alec. Shrugging away, he turned back to her.

"She's—she's gone. Jace, I'm so sorry. I—I tried to stop him."

"Him? Who's him?"

Isabelle raised his eyes to his. "Simon. It was Simon."

"What? How could it be Simon, he's gone."

"It was him, Jace. I saw him with my own two eyes. Only—only something was different. He was under some sort of spell. He grabbed Clary and I tried to stop him but he was so strong. He threw me against the wall, knocking me out. When I came to, there was a puddle of blood and no Clary."

"Damn it, Izzy! How could you let this happen? You were supposed to be protecting her!"

"I'm sorry!" she cried. "I tried. He was just too strong."

He shoved past her and started toward the door.

"Grab him." He heard Maryse say and within seconds, two of the larger Shadowhunters from the group took hold of his arms.

"What the hell?" He jerked against them, but they held strong. "You can't be serious! Not now, Maryse. Not when they have her. You can't keep me out of this."

"Yes we can, and we will. We will find Clary, and the others."

"But you know it's me they want. Not her. What if they hurt her? This is a trap and we all know it. Let's just play along." He turned to Clary's mother. "Jocelyn, you can't let them do this. I can get to her. I can save her!"

Jocelyn stood next to Maryse, her hand over her mouth and her eyes filled with tears.

"Damn it!" He struggled against the grip of the two Shadowhunters. "Get your damn hands off me!"

"Take him to his room and use runes on the door."

Jace jerked again against the Shadowhunter's grip. One of his arms came free, and as the man scrambled to get a hold again, Jace elbowed him in the nose, hearing the distinct crunch of breaking bones, and kicked backward into the man's knee. As he fell to the ground in a howl, Jace turned to the other, struck out with his fist, cracking that one in the nose as well before grabbing him by the arm and flipping him onto his back. Before any of the other Shadowhunters could get to him, he was out the door, giving Isabelle a pointed look as he passed. He thought he caught her nod in understanding.

He raced down the hall, flung himself into the weapon's room and slammed the door, hastily drawing locking runes into the wood. Darting around the room, he grabbed a new weapon's belt, several seraph blades, a few daggers, and a sword with a sheath.

Shouts and bangs came from outside the door. He heard Maryse's voice distinctly, telling him not to be stupid and to let them handle it. "Sorry Mom," he muttered. "Guess I'm not so smart after all."

After strapping on the gear, he grabbed a heavy wooden chair from the nearby table and smashed it through the large floor-to-ceiling-window. He turned his head away from the flying shards as they clattered to the ground around him. Glass crunched under his feet as he approached the gaping, jagged hole. He took a deep breath, prayed that Izzy knew his looks well enough to get the message, and jumped.

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**Be back soon with more…sooner if you bombard me with reviews…:P**


	21. Chapter 21

**Yay! You guys are awesome! Keep the reviews coming! I'm trying to stretch this out for you, really I am!! I hope you are still enjoying it. :) I really enjoy cocky Jace…so much…sigh…**

**Chapter Songs:**

_**Black Hole Sun **_**by Sound Garden (Scene 1)**

_**Burning Bright **_**by Shinedown (Scene 2)**

*****I own nothing but plot, interpretation and … well, if you've been reading this far you know what…;) ) *****

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Simon's mouth filled with the most intoxicatingly delicious taste. The warm, thick liquid slid down his throat, quenching his thirst to the point of ecstasy. Heat spread through his cold body, strengthening every muscle and heightening every sense. He felt so strong, so full, and so invincible. The haze in his mind started to clear, but he didn't want it to end. This was the best dream he'd ever had and he wasn't ready to let go yet. But the darkness abated anyway and he felt his consciousness open to his surroundings.

He grasped at the last remaining memories if the dream, running his tongue over his lips expecting them to still be parched and cracked from the lack of blood. Only they weren't dry or split, they were plump and smooth, just like after he fed. His hands explored the space around him. Grime covered the ground beneath him and hard stone jutted out behind him, pressing into his back uncomfortably. Nope, he was still in the hellhole he'd been in. Had they fed him while he slept? How was that possible? He certainly felt better, stronger.

Opening his eyes, he peered out into the darkness, surprised to see his vision had improved. It was almost as if moonlight shone inside, illuminating the entire cell. He could make out the dirt floor, the bars lining two sides, and the different sized stones making up the other walls. Swallowing, he could still taste the dream on his tongue. He closed his eyes, trying to hold on to the memory for as long as possible—until he heard it. A soft sigh followed by light breathing resonated beside him. Why hadn't he noticed a presence near him before?

Slowly, he turned his head, taking in the figure next to him. It was a girl, with dark tangled locks hanging down, shielding her face. Chains snaked from the wall behind her and attached to the shackles surrounding her tiny wrists. Simon's chest clenched, he knew those hands. He knew those untidy tendrils.

"Clary?"

She did not respond. If it weren't for her shallow breathing and the faint pounding of her heart, he would have thought she was dead. He tested his own chains and found that they were long enough to allow him to touch her. Reaching out, he laid his hand on her shoulder. Still no response. He shook her lightly. Nothing. Raising his hand, he slowly pushed back the veil of hair separating her face from his.

"Clary—" Her name choked on his lips.

A large black stain covered the front of her shirt, trailing down from two punctures in her neck. Two wounds that could only have been made by one thing—a vampire. Suddenly it all made sense. The taste on his lips. The renewed strength in his body. His improved vision. It had been him. He'd bitten her, _fed_ off her.

"Clary! Oh G—" The word stuck in his throat as always. "Oh, please, please. Clary." He reached out and pulled her to him, using the last bit of slack in both their chains to do so. Her body fell limply against him as her pale face stared up at him, eyes closed and mouth slack. "What have I done? What have I done?" He pressed her against his chest and ran his hand down her hair. "I'm so sorry. I—"

A sob ripped through his body as he squeezed her tight against him. She remained unresponsive—a rag doll in the arms of a monster. Simon lowered his face to her hair, letting the unrelenting waves of torment and grief wash over him, throwing him down into the deep, dark abyss he deserved.

***

Jace landed in a crouch just as a loud crash sounded from above. He whipped his head around, catching a glimpse of Maryse's livid face staring down on him from the shattered window. Cocking a grin in her direction, he turned and sprinted into the shadows. Footsteps pounded behind him. Spying a branch a mere twenty feet over his head, he jumped and caught it, swinging himself up and landing steadily on it. Five Shadowhunters rushed past under him, not bothering to glance up. He chuckled to himself.

A light burned bright in a window two floors up, backlighting a dark silhouette. _Isabelle_. He thought to himself. At least he knew his looks were interpreted correctly. Another branch hovered above him and stretched close to the window. He leaped up, caught it and shimmied along until he came within a few feet of Isabelle.

"You're an idiot, you know that," she said, her face masked in disgust.

"An idiot you'd risk Mom's wrath for." He flashed her a smile.

"Ugh." She tossed a package over to him. He caught it with one hand. "She's going to kill you, you know."

Jace tucked the package in his pants. "Yeah, well, she can get in line. I have bigger problems than Maryse's anger at this point." He glanced back up, meeting Isabelle's eyes. "You know I can't sit back and let them handle this."

She sighed. "I know. Seriously, Jace, you've got to teach that girl of yours to quit running off without a thought."

"Easier said than done. Clary doesn't think with her brain when it comes to people she loves." He paused. "In fact, I don't think she thinks at all."

"Apparently, neither do you."

He grinned. "Touche."

"What I don't understand is what they want her for? I mean, I thought you were the super-special warrior guy."

"I think this was the plan all along. Whoever this is knew the quickest and easiest way to get to me was through Clary. Take her and I'd come running." He glanced up at the sun. It was starting its descent toward the horizon. "Well, you know me—I'm not one to disappoint." He readied himself to jump down.

"Jace, wait."

"What?"

"Let us help. Alec and I."

He started to protest, but she cut him off.

"Don't be a moron. You know we can help. Just give us some time to get out of here and we'll meet you somewhere."

Jace blew out a slow breath, knowing she was right. "Yeah, okay. Meet me at Turtle Pond as soon as you can. Preferably before sunset." He grasped the branch, preparing to leap.

"Okay. We'll be there. And Jace—"

"What, Isabelle?" he asked exasperatedly.

"Watch yourself. You have Shandowhunters after you now too."

"Yeah, yeah. Just hurry up."

Jace looked to the ground and once he was satisfied no one was waiting to snatch him, he lowered himself from the branch and dropped down. Following the shadows along the building, he made it to the street and blended himself in with the swarm of mundanes going about their business. He'd almost made it to the subway entrance when he heard, "There he is!," from close behind him. Glancing over his shoulder, he spotted one of the Shadowhunters whose nose he broken.

"God, this is annoying," he muttered to himself before sprinting down the stairs and jumping over the rail into the teeming crowd of mundanes. He pushed his way through the mass, earning himself a large amount of inventive names. Some of which he filed away for later use. Just as the doors were about to close, he slid through them. He turned and faced out, looking through the glass right into the eyes of the big Shadowhunter. Jace smiled and wiggled his fingers in farewell as the train pulled away.

The big guy swore and ran back through the crowd. Jace let out a slow breath and stood near the doors, readying himself to exit at the first stop. He was going in the wrong direction from Turtle Pond so he would have to backtrack, the fact of which seriously irritated him. It wasn't like he was out there for his health. Who knew what was happening to Clary. They could be hurting her, or worse. He clenched his fists at the thought. Even though Isabelle swore Simon was under some sort of spell, Jace had half a mind to impale him to a wall. It wouldn't kill him, but he doubted it would feel very good.

As soon as the train stopped and the doors opened, Jace rushed out, drowning himself again in a sea of mundanes. Up ahead, he spotted the restroom doors. Ducking inside, he stole into a stall, removed the package Isabella had given him and ripped into it. The wrapping fell away revealing his Shadowhunter gear. He grinned, peeled off his clothes, and stepped into the gear. After applying a glamour, he stepped out of the stall, throwing his other clothes into the corner. He figured they'd be gone within minutes.

He exited the restroom and raced up the stairs. When he emerged from the subway tunnel, the sun sat low in the sky coloring it with deep red and burnt orange streaks. He swore under his breath and took off down the crowded street in the direction of Turtle Pond. Luckily, he didn't run into any other Shadowhunters on the way.

He crossed into the park at just as the last traces of the sun slipped below the horizon and the deep purple of twilight took over. Isabelle and Alec sat in the gazebo, waiting just as they'd promised. They stood as he jogged across the bridge to them.

"What took you so long?" Isabelle stood, dressed in full Shadowhunter gear, her weapons belt full and her whip wrapped around her wrist. "We were starting to freak out that you'd been caught already."

"Oh, ye of little faith. Do you really hold me in such low regard as to think I could be caught so easily?"

Alec stood next to Isabelle, his face still drawn and pale, but a flicker of determination livened his previously deadened eyes. "I don't know Jace. You've got a dozen or more Shadowhunters after you, not to mention however many demons and vampire-werewolf things. Not even you can avoid all of that."

Jace shrugged. "Who said I was avoiding—well, the Shadowhunters yes, they're just a bunch of spoil sports—but the others . . . at least they'd get me where I need to go."

"You're not seriously considering . . . giving yourself up to these monsters are you?" Alec looked at him incredulously.

"Do you have a better idea?"

"Actually," Isabelle furrowed her brow, "I think I might." She raised her eyes to Jace's. "Why don't you try tracking her? You know, like you did with Sebastian—er Jonathon."

"I would but it's not like I actually had time to get anything of hers to do it with."

"Plus," Alec started, "the others already tried. They only hit a block."

"But what about this," Isabelle said. "We're in agreement that this whole thing is some sort of trap to get Jace to come after Clary, right?"

Alec and Jace nodded.

"Well, what if the only reason they're hitting a block is because the only person who can find Clary is the one they set this all up for." She turned her gaze back to Jace. "You. What if you _can_ track her?"

"That's all great and everything but I already told you that I don't have anything of hers."

Isabelle grinned. "But _I_ do." She reached around to her side and slid a dagger out of her weapons belt. Lifting up the edge of her gear, she pulled on the shirt she wore underneath, cut a small square from the bottom and handed it to Jace.

He held it up in the moonlight, a dark smear stretched across the middle. "Is this—?"

"Blood." Isabelle nodded. "From earlier. I got some on my finger and wiped it off on my shirt."

Jace smiled. "Izzy, I could kiss you!"

She held a hand up in front of her and grimaced. "Please. Don't." She paused. "Does this mean I'm forgiven for letting your girlfriend get kidnapped?"

"Not quite, but it doesn't hurt."

"So what now?" Alec asked.

"Now, we see if this works." Jace tucked the square of fabric into his palm and turned his fist over, tracing the tracking rune on the top of his hand. He closed his eyes as the images started to flow. Scenery rushed past him, taking him through the city, up side streets and stopping in front of an abandoned warehouse. The number 3366 flashed before his eyes and then he was plunged into darkness. Dirt and grime covered the ground, and old stone surrounded the room except for the bars on two sides. His eyes snapped open. "Gotcha."

He turned to Isabelle and Alec and nodded.

"It worked?" Alec looked at him, amazed.

"Yep."

"So where are we going?"

"Old warehouse district—not far from Magnus's actually."

"Okay," Isabelle said. "Let's go—"

A rustling in the nearby bushes pulled their attention away. Three large, green serpent-like demons slithered out.

Alec sighed. "Well, at least it's not one of those vampwolves."

"Way to look on the bright side." Jace slapped him on the shoulder and turned back to the demons. "Well, I don't have a lot of time for you tonight, so do me a favor and die quickly—oh, and if it's not too much to ask—I'd appreciate it if you could keep your blood splattering to a minimum. I don't have anything to change into."

Alec pulled his bow from his back and fitted an arrow into it. Isabelle uncoiled her whip and snapped it at her side.

Jace slid the blade from the sheath on his back. "All right. Let's get this over with."

"Right," Alec said as he pulled back on his bow, sending an arrow flying through the air just as Jace lunged forward and Isabelle cracked her whip.

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**BBS (Be back soon—for future reference). Make sure to leave reviews—if you like these daily updates…;)**


	22. Chapter 22

**First of all, I want to shout out a HUGE thank you to all of you loyal reviewers! I love you guys!**

**Now, honestly, I don't know what to say about this chapter . . . I'm actually kinda nervous about it, LOL! So without further ado . . . I'll just let you read and you can tell me what you think . . . EEK!**

**Chapter songs:**

_**Saving Me **_**by Nickelback (Scene 1)**

_**Collide**_** by Dishwalla (Scene 2)**

*****Y'all know what's owned by me . . . unfortunately not the characters *tear*.*****

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Clary groaned as she awakened, her head spinning and stomach churning. She lay there for a moment, trying to assess her surroundings and get her bearings. Her hands brushed along a dusty floor and her back pressed against something hard and uneven. Her head lay on something sort of soft but sort of not. It took her a moment to realize that it was someone's legs. Jace was her first thought but she knew it couldn't be him—she would sense him immediately. Not Jace, but someone almost as familiar. A cool hand touched her cheek, brushing the hair from her face.

"Clary?" a voice said.

Clary jerked up and the room spun. Nausea gripped her stomach and she retched. Luckily, she hadn't eaten at all that morning so nothing came up. When her eyes finally focused and her head stopped spinning, she turned to the person next to her. She squinted against the darkness, trying to discern who it was. The only light in the whole place came from the hallway and it was so dim it barely provided any illumination.

"Clary. It's me."

Finally, she recognized the voice. "Simon?" Her first instinct was to wrap her arms around him, but then she remembered what had happened in the alley. She scooted away from him as far as the chains would let her go. "You—you bit me!"

"I—I'm sorry!" His voice cracked. "It wasn't me—well it was me, but not really _me_!" He sighed. "What I mean is that I didn't know I was doing it. I don't even remember it. All I know is that I woke up here and you were next to me, your neck bleeding. I swear, Clary. I would _never_ hurt you on purpose. Never."

Clary relaxed slightly and inched closer to Simon. "I know that. It's just—I can't believe you bit me!"

"Clary—" He reached for her hand, pausing just before touching it. "I'm so sorry. I won't blame you if you never forgive me. I just don't know what happened."

Clary thought back to the scene in the alley. His glazed over, vacant eyes. Isabelle saying _he's under a spell_. "Simon, what _do_ you remember?" She wished she could see him, see his expression.

Simon sighed. "The last thing I remember is sitting here feeling sorry for myself and thinking about how much it would suck to sit here for the rest of eternity, and then I saw this blue flash." Clary felt him shrug. "Then I woke up here, next to you, my mouth tasting like blood—by the way, you taste pretty good."

"Ugh. Simon."

"Inappropriate?"

"Very."

"Sorry."

Clary took a deep breath. "Isabelle said you were under a spell."

"A spell? But how—"

"I don't know. That's just what she said. I mean, your eyes did look a little weird."

"Weird? Weird how? Like they were all bloodshot or something?"

Clary moved uncomfortably against her chains. "No, they were like, flat and—and dead looking."

"Well, technically I am dead, so I'm not sure how my eyes could look more dead."

Clary tried to swat him but ended up scraping her hand against the wall instead. "Ow." She ran her finger against the stone and froze. The wall felt tacky and damp under her touch. She pulled back, squeezing her fingers together and pulling them apart, feeling the strange stickiness. A sickening dread washed over her. Images flashed through her mind. Stumbling around in the dark. Falling against a blood soaked stone wall. Jace's face, drained and pale. She gasped. "Simon, where are we?"

"I don't know." He shifted beside her. "But we're not alone. Luke is here and so is that faerie guard, Meliorn. I heard them bring someone else in the other day, but I don't know who."

Clary nodded. "Magnus. It has to be. But—" She squinted uselessly into the dark. "Where are the others?"

"I don't know," Simon said. "They were in the cells next door, but they don't seem to be there now."

A loud screech of grinding metal and clank of a door opening echoed through the corridor. Several sets of footsteps thudded down the hall, heading in the direction of Simon and Clary's cell. Clary scooted as close as she could to Simon. His arm went around her shoulders, pulling her tight against him. The shuffling of feet and grunts grew closer still, stopping just outside the cell door. Clary reached up and twisted her fist in Simon's sleeve.

The glow of witchlight traveled from the rear of the group to the front. The clank of keys and then the click of a lock sounded followed by the squeal of grating metal.

"Get these two inside and then retrieve the warlock," a voice said.

Clary's heart skipped a beat at the sound. It was so familiar—not in the way that she'd heard the voice before, but that it was similar to another. She tried to place it, but she was so shaken she could barely remember her own name.

Footsteps grew closer again. Simons embrace around her tightened as Clary felt activity next to her. It sounded as if something heavy were dropped next to her. Chains clanked followed by the snap of manacles closing. They'd shackled someone next to her. Another thud and more clanking indicated another person being tied up.

A green glow emanated in the hallway, drawing Clary's attention from the other prisoners. God, she wished she could see what was going on.

Suddenly, Magnus was led to the cell door. The only reason she could see him was because he was surrounded in a pulsing green light. It stretched from just above his head down to the ground. Sparks jumped from it, disintegrating into the air. His face was drawn and pale—just as he looked when his energy had been depleted.

Clary could see some of her captors now. The one on Magnus's left was one of the vampire-werewolves. The one on his right was different. His skin was blue and sparkled like glitter. A black horn stuck out from the middle of his forehead, and his arms held no flesh, only bone. Black fur covered his chest and ankles. He looked like some kind of messed up cross between a faerie and a werewolf.

The two creatures led Magnus into the cell, depositing him in the back corner along the wall. After they attached his "cage" to the wall with pulsing green poles, Clary glanced to her side, finally able to see the other captives. To her left sat Luke. His body hunched over and his eyes closed. She gasped and tried to reach out to him, but Simon restrained her. When she glanced back at him, he shook his head. She turned back to Luke, spying the faerie guard, Meliorn, slumped over as well next to him.

"Well, I'm glad to see the vampire did not hurt you too much," the voice spoke again from much closer, startling Clary. She swung her head forward but all she saw was a silhouette. Tall, slender, and still strangely recognizable. She was sure she didn't know this man, so why did he feel so familiar? "It would have been a pity to lose our bait before the prize ever entered the building."

"So you are using me to get to Jace." Her voice sounded surprisingly calm considering the fact that her stomach flopped wildly in her abdomen.

"Jace . . ." he said Jace's name like it was the first time he'd heard it. "Yes, well, as you know, he is exceptionally skilled and would have caused much damage to my men if we'd gone after him personally. This way, he comes to us. Much less hassle that way."

"What do you want with him—with all of them?"

"All in due time." She heard footsteps retreating. "Secure the girl and move her to the other cell. We want her isolated when he comes for her. Wouldn't want him getting the idea to free these others to help, now would we."

One of the creatures stood in front her and reached down to her wrists.

"Get your hands off her!" Simon growled and slapped away the monster's hand.

The creature drew his arm back and swung forward, knocking Simon's head into the rock wall. His grip around her shoulders grew slack and his head lulled forward.

"Simon!" she cried.

Hands were on her again, roughly unshackling her and grabbing her wrists. The creature jerked her to her feet and dragged her out of the cell. They continued down the corridor, turning three times before coming to rest outside a small cell. At least this one had a small witchlight in the corner, no doubt to showcase her for Jace. She shuddered at the thought.

The metal door opened with a screech and the creature shoved her inside, slamming the cell door shut behind her. She landed on the hard, dust-covered ground on her hands and knees. Pain radiated from the points which contacted the floor and particles of dirt ground into the scrapes on her palms.

The creature retreated leaving her alone with the silhouetted figure outside the bars. The bottom half of his body was dimly lit by the witchlight inside her cell, but his face was still shrouded in darkness.

"I apologize for the awful way in which you have been treated. If there was any other way, I would have done it," he said.

"What do you want with Jace?" Her voice shook this time. "Why do you want to hurt him? Please don't hurt him." Her eyes flooded and tears fell down her cheeks.

"Hurt him?" the man said as he brought a slender hand up and wrapped it around the bars. "Why would I want to hurt him?" He bent at the knee and crouched down, the light now cascading over his face.

Clary gasped and nearly fell backward. She knew that face—almost better than her own. It was nearly identical. The same strong jaw, same nose, same mouth, same hair, only the eyes were different. It was impossible. Absolutely impossible. "You . . ." the word formed on her lips, but no sound came out.

"I would never hurt him," the man continued. "Not my own son."

***

Jace pulled his sword from the writhing demon. As it folding into itself at his feet, he wiped the dripping black ichor from the blade on the grass and replaced it in its sheath. "Well, that was fun."

Isabelle coiled her whip around her wrist and swiped a hand across her face, clearing it of the spray of demon blood she'd been unfortunate enough to be struck with. "A shower in demon goo is not exactly what I'd call fun."

"Should I have rephrased and called it fun_ny_?"

Alec chuckled—the first time either of them had heard him laugh since Magnus was taken.

Isabelle narrowed her eyes. "If you don't get yourself killed tonight, Jace, you'd better sleep with one eye open."

Jace feigned a shocked expression. "All for finding humor in a demon's bodily fluids coating your face? I'm shocked."

"No, for being a pain in my ass for the last seven years!"

"All right." Alec stepped between them, hoisting his bow on his back. "As amusing as this all is, we really should get going. If we stay someplace for too long we risk running into more Shadowhunters."

"Always thinking." Jace placed a hand on Alec's shoulder then turned to Isabelle. "Does it ever bother you that he inherited all the intelligence?"

"Arg!" She lunged forward, only stopping when Alec's palm pressed against her chest.

"You guys are so mature. Can we focus?" Alec said.

Isabelle stepped back and pointed in Jace's direction. "You just wait."

"Ooh, a threat. I'm quaking in my boots—oh wait, no I'm not." Jace frowned. "Really Isabelle, you should work on your menacing look. The one you've got going on now just makes you look constipated."

"Jace." Alec couldn't conceal his laughter.

Isabelle spun on her heel and marched across the grass, heading out of the park. "I hate you both!" she called over her shoulder.

Jace and Alec walked after her.

"You shouldn't do that, you know, try to get a rise out of her," Alec sighed.

"She loves it."

Alec laughed and pointed toward the retreating Isabelle, her arms flailing in front of her and the faint sound of her cursing resonating through the air. "She doesn't look or sound like she loves it."

Jace chuckled. "Trust me. This is how we roll—she and I. I act like a pompous ass and she gets all flustered and stomps off. It's classic Isabelle-Jace activity."

"If you say so." He sighed. "Do you really know what you're doing? I mean, aren't you scared?"

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?" Jace raised his hands in the air and dropped them back to his sides. "No. I'm not scared of—whoever this is. The only thing that scares me is something happening to Clary—or any of you. I'm not scared for myself."

Alec caught his eye. "Maybe you should be. I mean, what if something happens to you? How do you think it will affect Clary—or—or the rest of us."

"Nothing's going to happen to me, Alec. I'm the super warrior, remember?" He flashed Alec a grin, hoping against hope he would stop with the mushy crap.

"Yeah, yeah." Alec rolled his eyes. "We should catch up to Izzy before she gives herself a seizure with all that jerking."

Jace laughed, secretly thanking the powers-that-be for ending the awkward conversation. "Probably so."

Jace and Alec jogged up to where Isabelle had suddenly halted, her eyes fixed on a section of trees to their right. "Shh." She took a few more steps forward, her hand held out behind her telling them to wait. "I hear voices."

Jace strained to hear, finally picking up a conversation.

"Fan out and check the park." Maryse's voice floated through the still air. "We have to find them. I swear these kids are going to be the death of me."

Isabelle whipped around and pointed toward the street just barely visible through the line of trees to their left. "Go!" she hissed. "I'll distract them."

"Isabelle . . ."

"Just go! I remember the address." Her eyes met Jace's. "Go."

He hesitated only for a second, nodded and took off toward the opening in the greenery, Alec right on his heels. They broke through into the bright streetlights, the sidewalks still full of people even in the dark. Concealing themselves in the crowd, they rushed toward the subway station. In order to avoid the crowded staircase, Jace gripped the banister and slid down, Alec following him. Mundanes packed the area, completely unaware of the two teens weighted down by deadly weapons.

"Come on," Jace said. "The train's about to leave."

Jace pushed his way through the crowd, eliciting surprised looks when the mundanes couldn't see who had shoved them. Normally, he'd be amused by their expressions, but tonight he hardly noticed. He was so close now. Close to figuring this whole thing out. Close to finding Clary. He and Alec stepped onto the car just as the doors wooshed shut, starting them on their path toward the warehouse district. The place that something or someone he had no idea about, was waiting for him to show up. To use him for whatever it had planned. But more importantly, to the place where she was waiting for him. Waiting for him to save her.

* * *

**EEK! Okay, don't freak out! Explanation on how and why to come . . . But . . . thoughts? Reactions? Bueller . . .? BBS!**

**ACK! I'd hoped no one would be confused, but I wanted to point out that the 'man' is NOT Valentine! I'm so sorry if anyone else got that impression! Maybe I should have gone into more detail...  
**


	23. Chapter 23

**Three cheers for the awesomeness that are my faithful reviewers! I know all of you were shocked by the 'revelation' last chapter. Is it bad that I'm glad? LOL! Yes, those who guessed Stephen Herondale were correct. Why did I pick Stephen? Well, 'cause no one ever does. I think people want Stephen to be a good guy, just so Jace doesn't REALLY have a loser of a father. But, the simple fact is, Stephen was a loyal follower of Valentine—his right-hand man after Luke was changed. It stands to reason he would harbor some of Valentines 'misguided' ways if he were alive. So in this story, he is! I hope you are not disappointed, but I was kinda going for shock value and I didn't want to use the same old bad guys. :D**

**So, without further ado…**

**Chapter songs:**

**Scene 1: **_**Until the Day I Die**_** by Story of the Year**

**Scene 2: **_**Far Away**_** by Nickelback (What? I love Nickelback, so sue me for using their songs two chapters in a row. :P )**

*****All characters owned by Cassandra Clare. Plot, interpretation and Jace's entire wardrobe (minus his Shadowhunter gear—phooey) are mine. :D *****

* * *

Jace and Alec stood in the shadows outside the nondescript warehouse. Not a single thing gave any sign of life inside. Aside from the sound of traffic in the distance, the hum of a nearby streetlamp was the only sound. A dingy yellow glow illuminated the yard, revealing broken down machinery and garbage strewn over the dusty ground.

"Are you sure this is the one?" Alec asked, scratching his cheek.

Jace peered up at the large red lettering on the side of the building. 3366. "It's the right number."

Alec frowned. "I was expecting more of a welcome party. I mean, there's no one, nothing."

"No one we can see." Jace turned to Alec. "What? Did you expect them to be totally obvious about it?"

"I don't know. I guess I expected some sort of guards or something."

"Hmm," Jace said before abruptly standing and stepping into the ring of light shining down from a nearby streetlamp.

"Jace!" Alec hissed. "What are you doing? Are you crazy?"

"I figured as much," Jace said, more to himself than Alec. He turned and gestured for Alec to come out of hiding. "They're not preventing me from going in. This is all part if the plan. They want me inside."

Alec hurried up to him, his eyes squinting into the night looking of any sign of movement. "Do you think they're out here?"

"Probably." Jace tucked the scrap of fabric containing Clary's blood into his fist again. "It's not like they want just anyone wandering in." He traced the rune on his hand and closed his eyes, allowing the images to flood over him. Snapping his eyes open, he pointed to the left side of the building. "Around that corner is a sewer entrance." He tucked the cloth square in his pocket before turning to Alec. "Listen . . . maybe you shouldn't come with me. I'm pretty confident they're not going to hurt me—yet. But I can't say the same about you."

Alec's eyes met his. "You're not the only one with someone you love in there. If the roles were reversed you wouldn't stay out here and you know it."

"You're not wrong."

"So, I'm going then." Alec let out a slow breath and turned to face the looming warehouse. "So, where are they?"

"The tracking rune is showing me some sort of underground prison. I don't know what this place used to be, but I think there are some sort of holding cells underneath."

"A Penitentiary?"

Jace shook his head. "Not that I know of."

"Weird."

Jace nodded and reached to his back, pulling the long blade from its sheath. "Okay, let's go." He beckoned Alec forward with a wave of his hand and started toward the side of the building. As Alec moved, he pulled out a knife of his own.

When they reached the corner of the building, shadows swallowed every bit of light supplied by the lamps in front. Jace reached into his pocket and his fingers closed around a smooth stone. Pulling it out, he tightened his fist around it and tiny beams of light shot through the spaces between his fingers, brightening the darkness around them enough to see where they were going.

After walking several feet, the clang of metal sounded from under Jace's boots. He bent and brushed his hand through the layer of grime on the ground. A metal manhole cover sat directly underneath. Silently, he held the witchlight up to Alec. As soon as Alect took it, Jace curled his fingers around the edge of the cover and pulled. With a grind of metal, the cover came loose and Jace slid it aside. Replacing the sword in its sheath, he placed his hands on either side of the hole, dangled above it for a moment and then dropped down, landing with a splash in the few inches of water underneath. A few seconds later, Alec landed behind him, holding the witchlight up and turning in every direction in order to survey the area. Just as they started moving forward, another splash sounded behind them. Jace's hand flashed to his sword, pulled it out and he whipped around, the edge of the blade finding a soft neck.

"Isabelle!" he hissed. "What the hell are you doing?"

She reached out, placed a finger to the tip of the blade and pushed it gently away from her neck. "Coming to help you idiots. You didn't think you were going to do this without me, did you?"

"I could have slit your throat! You know better than to sneak up on us."

"Whatever." She snorted. "I wouldn't have let you. You're lucky you got that close." She took a step back. "Oh, by the way, I may or may not have led the other Shadowhunters here."

"What?" Jace and Alec said together.

She shrugged. "Well, I outran them. But I figured we may need help, so I let them keep an eye on where I went. They'll be along soon."

Jace scowled. "It's not your worst idea ever, but we better get going before they show up and drag me away." He turned and started back down the tunnel. Alec stayed at his side, holding the witchlight high.

Isabelle trudged behind. "Ugh. I just knew this would involve sewer. I just knew it."

"Izzy, this is a storm drain, not sewage."

"Yeah, but I bet there are still rats!"

"You cannot tell me you're afraid of rats," Jace said. "A demon hunter afraid of rats, really?"

"What? They have beady eyes and that weird hairless tail." She shuddered. "They're just gross."

"My hell." Jace shook his head.

A large metal door stuck out from the side of the tunnel just ahead. Jace gestured for them to hold back and stood in front of the door. "This is it." He turned to them. "You guys ready?"

Isabelle uncoiled her whip and Alec held out the knife in his hand. "Of course," he said.

Jace closed his hand around the large handle and pulled. With a groan, the door opened, a puff of dust billowing up from inside. The fact that the door wasn't locked didn't go unnoticed. He knew he was walking right into their trap, but he didn't care. He was ready to have this over with.

The door led to a corridor lined with old cells. Dust floated in the beams of witchlight, giving the feeling that this part of the underground prison had stood undisturbed for a long time. The trio stepped inside, surveying the area.

"I still don't get why we haven't seen anyone," Alec said. "It's just plain weird."

Just as he finished talking, a shuffling sound echoed through the hallway. Jace whipped around to find two creatures making their way toward them. One appeared to be one of the vampwolves, and the other looked like a cross between a faeire and a werewolf. "Nice, Alec. You just had to open your mouth didn't you?"

"Sorry," he said.

"Jace," Isabelle grabbed his arm. "Get behind us."

"What? Are you insane?"

She glared at him. "It's you they want. Let us deal with them and you go find Clary—and the others."

"There's no way—"

"Jace!" she growled. "Now is not the time to pull your, 'I'm the only one who can do this,' crap! Clary is waiting for you, now go! Alec and I are perfectly capable."

"I—"

"She's right, Jace," Alec said, his face intent on the approaching creatures. "You need to go, before it's too late."

Jace hesitated, his adrenaline pumping and ready for the fight. He couldn't imagine leaving Alec and Isabelle to fight these things alone, but he couldn't risk being caught before finding Clary either. The decision tore at his conscience until he realized, they were right. He didn't have a choice, not really. Taking one last glance at them, he nodded once and took off in the opposite direction, praying he didn't just leave his brother and sister to their deaths.

***

_Not my own son. Not my own son. Not my own son._ The words spun through Clary's head. She'd known, somewhere in the recesses of her mind, even before she'd seen his face, who he was. His voice, the way he held himself, the outline of his silhouette, she'd known. How couldn't she? She'd spent so much time studying Jace, she knew him by heart—every inch of him. The way he moved, the way he spoke, everything. The similarities between father and son had been apparent from the beginning. She didn't put two and two together because Stephen Herondale was dead—at least he was supposed to be. Then again, he wasn't the first Shadowhunter to miraculously rise from the grave.

Even though she'd seen pictures and Amatis had told Jace how much he resembled his father, Clary had not been prepared for it. As she'd looked into Stephen's face, she could almost forget—even if only for a moment—that she wasn't looking at Jace. Other than the eyes— Stephen's were a clear icy blue and set closer together—they shared almost identical features. The same sculpted jaw, same dangerous curve of the mouth, same nose, even the same curly golden hair, though Stephen's was shorter and salted with gray. Stephen's tall, lean build and posture even mimicked Jace's confidently cocky stance.

Stephen's appearance had left Clary nearly speechless. There were so many questions she'd wanted to ask, but her mouth wouldn't form the words. When he'd left her alone in her cell, she'd dropped to the ground and curled up onto her side. Pulling her knees to her chest and laying her head on the dusty floor, she let the tears fall. They didn't just fall for herself and her predicament, but for the pain she knew Jace would feel. Even though he didn't know this man, his father, she knew it would rip him apart to see that he was no better than the man who had raised him.

Somehow, even though she'd spent the better part of the day knocked out from the loss of blood, she managed to fall asleep there on the hard ground. Maybe it was the fact that her emotions were completely exhausted and her brain needed a break—or maybe it was something more. Images flashed through her mind, interlocking circles, curves and curls, all fitting perfectly together in an intricate design. She had no idea what it meant, no idea what it did, all she saw was the rune and a pair of clasped hands, light blazing from between them.

Somewhere in the distance, she heard a voice, but not just any voice, _his_ voice. She turned toward it, wanting so badly to go to him, to stand with him, to feel his arms around her once more. She had no sense of direction there in the darkness but she felt the pull of him and ran toward it, not caring what may happen when she got there. The only thing that mattered was that she was with him again. Tears streamed down her face as she stumbled toward the sound. The darkness around her lightened to a dim gray, but she was still nowhere and he was not there. A sob choked in her throat. _Clary_, he called again.

Clary's eyes snapped open. She still lay on the grime covered floor, her knees pulled to her chest and her hands clasped against her. A shutter escaped from her chest. _Just a dream. It was just a dream._ She hadn't heard him, she hadn't felt him, it was all in her mind. Just as that thought left her mind, something touched her hair.

"Clary," a voice said.

Clary whipped her head up and peered through the bars. Her breath hitched as she took in his face, hoping this time it was the real thing. He stared back at her, his eyes wide and concerned.

"Jace," she whispered, before rising to her knees and grabbing the bars in front of her, leaning her forehead against the cold metal. "Jace!" Tears filled her eyes, but she tried not to blink out of fear he would disappear and she would awake on the ground again having it all been a dream. "Please tell me it's you and I'm not dreaming again."

He reached over and put his hands over hers, his touch sending warmth through her entire body. "It's me. Are you all right?"

"Oh my God!" She reached through the bars, placing her hands on either side of his face, pulling him closer. Before she knew it, his hands were on her face as well and he was kissing her through the bars. "I'm so sorry. So, so sorry," she cried against his lips. "I'm so stupid, Jace!"

He pulled back. "You're not stupid—a little rash, but never stupid."

"Yes, I am!" she cried. "I—I didn't think. I just saw him and—and I ran, It was so stupid."

"Clary," he pressed his head against the bars and closed his eyes, "let me get you out of here and then we'll talk about this."

She nodded. As his hands left her face, she felt an emptiness grow inside. She hadn't realized how scared she'd been that she'd never see him again.

Jace stepped over to the lock, pulled out his stele and traced an unlocking rune over it. A click echoed through the corridor and the door swung open with a creek. For what felt like a very long moment, they both just stood there staring at each other. Unable to stand not touching him for another second, Clary flung herself forward, wrapping her arms around his neck and crushing her lips to his. Tears streamed down her face and to her mouth, mingling their salty flavor with his sweet taste. His arms drew around her, pulling her body tight against his. One of his hands ran up her back, under her hair and cupped the back of her neck.

"I love you," she sobbed against his mouth, "I love you so much and I'm so sorry!"

"You're sorry you love me?" His voice held an amused tone.

She shook her head and reached up to grab his face. "Never." She leaned forward and placed several more small kisses in his lips. "I'm sorry that I put you here. That I got myself in trouble and you had to come rescue me."

"I'll always rescue you, Clary. No matter if it's you that puts you there or not. That's my job."

"My stupidity is going to get you killed."

"No." He cupped her face and softly brushed his lips against hers. "It's my fault for being so stupidly-crazy-in-love-with-you that I always feel the need to rescue you—that and the fact that my huge ego just won't allow anyone else to be your hero."

Clary laughed and reached up to lay her hand over his, as she did, the rune flashed in her mind again. She blinked against the image and furrowed her brow. Taking his hand in hers she turned it palm up. The rune grew brighter and more clear in her mind.

"Clary?" he asked.

"Where's your stele?"

His other hand fell from her face and reached into his pocket, bringing the small tool up and holding it in front of her face. She wrapped her fingers around it and closed her eyes, concentrating on every circle, swirl, and curve. When she opened her eyes again, she lifted them to his. "I don't know what this does, but I feel like I need to put it on you."

His gaze held hers. "I trust you."

She nodded and raised his palm to her lips, kissing it softly before lowering it again and touching the stele to his skin. As she traced the lines, the rune did not react like normal ones. The lines didn't turn black like a burn, they actually cut into his flesh and beads of blood gathered on the surface. Clary frowned. Even after the last line was finished, it felt incomplete. She'd drawn it exactly how it appeared to her in the dream, exactly how it appeared in her mind at that moment. She thought back, wondering what she could have missed just as the last picture she'd seen flickered in her mind. Clasped hands.

Still not understanding, a tingle in her left hand caught her attention. She raised her palm and finally realized why the rune wasn't complete. It wasn't because she'd done it wrong, but because it was part of a set. She lowered the stele to her skin and traced the same intricate shapes into her own flesh. And, just as Jace's had, blood rose to the surface of each line and curve.

Grabbing his wrist with her other hand and holding his bleeding palm up in front of her, she placed her hand against his, combining their blood as her fingers entwined with his. A searing heat engulfed their clasped hands as a bright light burst from between them. Clary held tight to him as the burn traveled through her body. No matter how much it hurt, she knew she couldn't let go.

After a few moments, the heat died down and the light burnt out. She released his hand and stared at her own. A permanent rune stared out her, but instead of the harsh black lines normally associated; these lines were red, as red as the blood that had seeped out of them. She glanced up at Jace to find him studying his own palm.

His brows raised and he glanced up at her. "Clary. Do you know what you've just done?"

She opened her mouth to answer when the sound of footfall broke into the corridor. Her chest clenched as Jace reached to his side, pulling out one of the knives from his belt, and pushed her behind him, keeping her between his body and the wall. Through the darkness emerged at least a dozen hybrids, surrounding them on each side, their faces half-hidden in shadow.

The creatures parted and through the space stepped Stephen, though his face was still hidden in the darkness. "Finally," he said, a note of true happiness in his voice. "Finally, we meet. I have been waiting for you, waiting for just the right moment."

"Yeah, well, I don't think this is it. Call my secretary and set up an appointment for a more convenient time," Jace said, reaching behind him to grasp Clary's hand.

Stephen chuckled. "I see you inherited your mother's sarcasm. One of her less endearing traits, I'm afraid to say."

Jace's hand tightened on Clary's. "Who the hell are you and what do you want from me?"

"What do I want? I want you. I want my son." Stephen stepped out of the shadows, his face revealed in the dim witchlight cascading from the cell.

Jace's breath hitched. And in his shock, the knife slipped from his grasp, clattering to the ground at his feet.

* * *

**Okay, so you got your smooshy mushy reunion. :D**

**Now for the bad news…sigh…I'm not sure if I will be able to update again for a little while. I'll try but my hubby has the next 10 or so days off and he HATES when I write when he has time off. Sigh. Plus, we're going on a trip back home next week. Double sigh(equates, not looking forward to it AT ALL). I'll try to update but don't be sad/mad if I can't for a bit! Smooches.**


	24. Chapter 24

**Okay, so I sent teasers I apologize if I missed you!!) of some of this earlier because I didn't think I'd have a chance to finish up the chapter and update, but YIPPEE, everyone left for a few hours and my daughter was napping so I got to work!! I hope you all enjoy this. :D**

**Chapter Song: **

**I DARE YOU by Shinedown (So, apparently I have an addiction to Shinedown as well as Nickelback. But seriously, this song is freakin' awesome!! Just look at these lyrics!! They sound so Jace to me…sigh.)**

_**Even in madness, I know you still believe**_

_**Paint me your canvas so I become**_

_**What you could never be**_

_**I dare you to tell me to walk through fire**_

_**Wear my soul and call me a liar**_**  
**

_**I dare you to tell me to walk through fire**_

_**I dare you to tell me. I dare you to.**_

**~*~I DARE YOU by Shinedown~*~**

* * *

The clang of metal against hard packed dirt barely registered as Jace took in the face before him. Somewhere inside he knew what he was seeing, but the bigger, rational part knew that it was impossible. The person standing just a few feet away could not be who he thought he was. It had to be some sort of trick, a game to screw with him. Something, anything but what his thudding heart and clenched chest were telling him. He couldn't be staring into the face of his father. His absent, dead father. It just wasn't possible.

Movement behind him snapped his thoughts back to the reality in front of him. Clary's grip on his hand slackened as she bent and slowly picked up a glinting object near his boot. He flexed his fingers, coming to the realization that he had dropped the knife. How could that have happened? Jace never let go of his weapon, no matter what. He bit the inside of his mouth, figuring the pain may help him focus and make sense of the situation.

Stephen took a step forward, his hand outstretched as if he wanted to touch Jace. Maybe he had a hard time believing what he saw as well. Jace immediately moved back, his right hand pushing Clary further behind him while his left instinctively snapped to his belt and drew out another knife.

"Stay the hell away from us," Jace said, his voice low, and drew the knife out in front of him. As anxious as he felt, the knife stayed steady in his hand. Not a single quiver gave away the storm of emotion raging inside him.

Stephen held his hands up palm out in front of him. "I don't want to hurt you, son."

"Don't call me that." The knife twitched in Jace's hand.

"Call you what?"

"Don't screw with me. You know what I'm talking about. Don't call me son. I'm not your son."

Stephen raised his brows. "Well, unless I'm mistaken, that is my face you're wearing." He took another step forward.

"What? Do you want a gesture of appreciation or something? I guess I'm not feeling very grateful at the moment—seeing as you kidnapped my girlfriend and have your freaky half-breeds breathing their rank breath down our necks." Jace made a quick movement with the knife as Stephen started to take another step forward. "And I swear to God if you come any closer I won't hesitate to drive this knife into you."

Clary wrapped her small hand around the forearm he held against her. Her light touch felt more real than anything else going on around him. She was the only light shining through in his darkness. The only thing that grounded him and kept him from completely cracking. Normally, he could handle just about anything, but the fact that—for the second time in so many months his supposedly dead father stood before him, wanting something from him—was almost more than he could handle. If he wasn't the poster boy for daddy issues he didn't know who was.

Stephen's eyes flickered to the hybrids on the opposite side of him and gestured for them to stand down. Jace stayed in his rigid position, not fooled into thinking Stephen would let them go.

"Listen, son." Stephen's arms were back out on front of him, his feet inching closer and closer to where Jace stood. "I just want to talk. Put down the weapon and we can."

"I told you to stop calling me that."

Stephen stopped, cocked his head to the side and dropped his hands. "What shall I call you then?"

"I'd prefer you didn't call me anything at all, but if you insist, I do have a name."

"And which name do you prefer I call you by? Jonathon? Jace?"

Jace let out a slow breath. "I only have one name, and that's the name the Lightwood's gave me."

Stephen nodded. "Jace then, right?"

Jace cringed slightly at the sound of his name falling from Stephen's lips. Maybe it was the fact that this man was supposed to be dead, or maybe that the whole situation reminded him so much of the ordeal with Valentine that he was having a serious case of déjà vu. Or, maybe he'd harbored a slight hope that Stephen Herondale wouldn't turn out to be so much like Valentine. But what could he expect really? Stephen had been a loyal follower; it shouldn't come as too big a surprise that he had that same 'rule the world' mentality. "What do you want from me?" he asked again.

Stephen's face softened. "I would like your help with something."

"What could you possibly want my help with? And furthermore, why should I help you? Seeing as you're alive and all, you pretty much abandoned me and let a psycho raise me."

"I realize Valentine's methods were . . . unconventional—"

"Unconventional? Really?" Jace scoffed. "I'm not sure that's the word I would use."

Stephen inched forward and Jace motioned with his knife for him to stop. "Look. You will never know how much it pains me to know that I couldn't be a father to you. I didn't even know you existed for the longest time. I thought you'd died along with your mother. It wasn't part of Valentine's plans for me to know about you."

"And yet you continue on in his fanatical ways—abducting people and creating half-breed beasts—even though he, for all intents and purposes, kidnapped your son. That sounds exactly like the actions of a loving parent."

Stephen paused and glanced up at the ceiling for a moment before speaking. "Valentine had a different view than I do, but that doesn't mean he didn't have some viable ideas."

Jace raised his brows. As much as he couldn't believe what was happening and really just wanted to leave, he was curious as to which of Valentine's ideas seemed viable to Stephen Herondale. The one that insisted that all Downworlders were unnatural and so they didn't deserve to live? Or maybe the one that said that all the Shadowhunters who didn't share the same view should die. Okay, maybe it wasn't so much curiosity as disgust, but Jace tended to be a bit morbid so naturally he wanted to know. "Viable, huh? Just which of Valentine's 'ideas' were worth any merit to you? I mean, all were just varying degrees of murder so shoot, which type of murder seems justifiable to you?"

Stephen shook his head. "I'm not interested in murdering anyone. That is not the part of Valentine's views that I shared, in fact, I tried to talk him out of that particular point—which is what I think lead to my 'accident' as it were."

Jace's eyes widened. "You mean, you don't think what happened to you—the raid in which you were supposedly killed—was an accident as Valentine claimed—not that that would surprise me."

Stephen's eyes met Jace's, the ice blue piercing through him. "No. I don't."

"Then I don't get it. Why carry on? Why continue in his ways if you didn't even agree with them."

"I didn't say I didn't agree with them." Stephen let out a slow breath and reached up to run a hand through his hair—a gesture Jace did not fail to recognize as one he did himself quite often. "I just didn't agree with his methods. You see, Valentine was extremely jealous of the fact that Downworlders had powers beyond those that we Shadowhunters had. He couldn't fathom why vampires had superior strength, and werewolves had greater speed. He just didn't understand how the angels had favored them by giving them such abilities. Naturally he thought that, being as we were chosen to fight evil, we should be endowed with those powers." Stephen paused and shot a look at the hybrids behind Jace and Clary.

Jace's eyes followed Stephen's and his grip on the knife tightened.

"Anyway," Stephen continued. "Valentine decided that the best way to deal with the imbalance was to rid the world of the tainted blood. I didn't agree with that and when I told him—well, let's just say that I found myself surrounded and then in a coma for months. When I came out of it, I didn't remember who I was or what my beliefs were. All I knew was that Valentine was my leader, that he cared for me, and obtained the very best warlock care available. I didn't remember anything about my life, except for a few flashes here and there. Little did I know, Valentine was paying the warlock to keep my memories hidden." Stephen's eyes met Jace's again. "Which is why I knew nothing about you and why I never came. Because I swear to you, if I'd known, I would have claimed you. I would have fought him for you."

Jace's arm tensed against Clary. She tightened her grip on his forearm and placed her other hand at his waist. He wondered briefly where she'd put the knife and wanted to tell her to keep it ready. No matter what Stephen said, he still didn't trust him not to do anything to them. "If you care at all about me, then why are you doing this? Why didn't you just contact me, come forward to the clave."

"You know how they treated followers of Valentine. It wouldn't have mattered how long it had been, I was still one of his. They wouldn't have differentiated."

It was true and Jace knew it made sense.

"Also, I couldn't have completed my work. It is important and will change everything."

"You mean these things?" Jace gestured with the knife to the hybrids. "Your screwed up science experiments?"

Stephen nodded. "They are my earlier creations, yes. But what I have discovered now is the future. It will make everything so much better, so much easier for all of us."

Jace studied the creatures, taking in their mutated appearances. In some, the vampiric features dominated, in others it was the werewolf or the faerie that was most prevalent. But what stood out most was the fact that every single one was not quite right.

Stephen followed Jace's gaze. "I know that they look very aberrant. But I assure you, they knew the risks when they volunteered."

Jace whipped his head back to Stephen. "What? They volunteered? So that means they're—"

"Shadowhunters." Stephen nodded. "Yes. Shadowhunters who believe what I do. That we should be the most powerful beings. That given our duties to protect the world against all kinds of demonic forces, we should have the abilities necessary. These Shadowhunters agreed to combine their essences with that of other supernatural creatures, in search of the right formula to give them the powers without changing their initial spirit."

Finally, the meaning clicked in Jace's mind. He saw what Stephen was trying to do. "So what you're saying is, while you didn't agree with Valentine's way of dealing with the inadequacies of our own kind, you felt that his ideas about Shadowhunters having the powers of Downworlders a worthy cause. You're trying to find a way to give Shadowhunters the abilities of downworlders."

"I was, yes."

Jace furrowed his brows. "What do you mean, 'was'?" he asked the question but feared he already knew the response.

"I mean that I have found the solution to my problem. I have found a way to transform Shadowhunters without the physical changes."

"And that is . . ."

Stephen's eyes bore into Jace's. "I think you already know."

Jace shook his head. Clary's grip on him tightened as his did to the knife in his hand. "No. I won't let you."

Stephen took another step forward, all the kindness and care in his face dissolved into a mask of determination. "I'm sorry, but you don't have a choice. It's our job as Shadowhunters to do what needs to be done to rid this world of demonic forces. You have an extraordinary gift. One you don't even utilize in this fight. Maybe you don't even recognize it for what it is. Do you not understand the significance of what you did for the daylighter? What things your blood can do? How it's different? It can change everything. Don't you see that?"

"We don't even know that that's what did anything for Simon—"

"Oh, I think you do. I think you always have known. You are the key I was searching for. Whatever Valentine's experiments did to you combined with our own family blessing has made you into something extraordinary. A catalyst for miraculous things. Think of the power we will have. The things we will be able to do against those dark forces. They won't stand a chance." Stephen inched closer. "I would much rather have your cooperation, but I will take from you what I need without it."

"I wouldn't expect anything less from a Valentine supporter, and if you actually do know anything about me, you'll know that there's no way I will willingly give you what you want. I'm not one for making things easy on others. It's a bit of a sickness, really."

Stephen nodded. "Yes, you have quite the reputation for being difficult. So be it then." Stephen glanced to the hybrids behind them and cocked his head toward Jace and Clary.

The six creatures converged on them, ripping Clary from Jace's grasp and barreling down on him. He swung out with his knife, lopping the arm off one and an ear off another. Clary kicked out, landing a hard blow to the stomach of one of her capture's but unable to free her arms from the grasp of the other two.

Jace spun around, his blade whipping through the air, catching any hybrid that came too close. Stephen deployed the rest of his mini-army, and while Jace was strong and quick, he could not fight them all on his own. Within minutes, they had him trapped with his arms behind him. He struggled against their grasp, not willing to go quietly. Clary stared wide-eyed at him, the look on her face was scared and remorseful. Jace tried to convey to her that everything would be fine, even though he knew it was quite possible it wouldn't.

Stephen stepped in front of him once more, even he looked sad. "I had hoped this would go differently, but I was prepared for this outcome."

Jace glared at him. "If you hurt her, I swear—"

"She is not of my concern," he said. "She was just a means to an end. The end is here. Someday you'll thank me for what I'm about to do. Maybe not anytime soon, but someday."

"Don't hold your breath. No, on second thought, please do. Preferably until you're dead—just like you're supposed to be."

Stephen let out a deep breath, stared at the floor for a moment and reached into his back pocket. Pulling out a small black club, he rolled it in his hands for a moment before raising his gaze to Jace's once more. "Please forgive me for this, but I know it's the only way to get you to where I need you without a fight."

He said nothing as Stephen raised the club over his head and brought it down hard against Jace's temple, plunging him immediately into darkness.

***

Simon groaned as noise from the outer corridor brought him out of the void. Pain shot through his skull as he struggled to open his eyes against the weight pressing on them. He reached up and grabbed his head with both hands as the voices grew louder. The sound of something dragging along the ground forced him to look up in spite of the pain. Light exploded outside the cell, causing him to squint against the glare.

Figures huddled in a group on the other side of the cell door as Stephen pressed a key into the lock and the door creaked open. Two of the hybrids dragged a familiar limp form into the cell. Clary's red hair hung down in twisted tangles as they pulled her body further inside and placed her next to Simon, shackling her wrists once again to the chains embedded in the wall. As soon as the creatures stepped away, Simon reached over and pulled Clary close to him, supporting her with his own form.

Next, the hybrids brought in a strange contraption that looked very similar to a cross. Shackles were rooted to the bottom and the sides, though these were not connected by chains. They were attached by large spikes that held them firmly to the wood. Runes covered every inch of the surface. Of course, Simon had no clue what any of them meant, but even so, he knew it couldn't be anything good.

Another group came through the door supporting a very unconscious Jace. His head hung low and his face obscured by a mass of blond curls. The creatures pulled him toward the structure in the middle and within moments had him secured on it. The sharp click of the shackles rebounded off the walls making it sound as though a dozen or more had been applied.

After a minute, Stephen came into the cell. Simon still couldn't get over the almost identical appearance of him and Jace. With them both in the same room, it was even more unnerving. To think he could barely stand one Jace and now there were two. Simon shuddered at the thought.

Simultaneous groans escaped from both Clary and Jace as they began to stir. Simon thought the fact that they both started coming around at the same time was a bit much. He knew they were in love and all, but how much in tune did they need to be?

Stephen rolled a small table up next to Jace. Even in the dim light, Simon could make out what was on top. Various scalpels, syringes, a few vials—some filled with a dark liquid and some empty, and rags lined a metal tray. Stephen grabbed a pair of latex gloves and snapped them on then reached for one of the knives.

"Oh, this really can't be good," Simon muttered to himself as he squeezed Clary tighter to his side.

* * *

**Okay, so I may not be able to update until I get home…but who knows!! I may have a bit of time to write tomorrow but I can't promise anything. Then I have a wedding on Saturday and a 2 day drive back home. BLAH!! Sigh…**

**BUT, if you leave a review I might send out teasers again…just sayin…;)**

**Okay, before more people get upset over the fact that Jace's biological father is an evil SOB and ask why Jace can't have a good father...let's just remember that Jace doesn't even know this man, he may have given him some DNA but that's it. And, Jace does have a real and GOOD father -- Robert Lightwood. After all, DNA isn't what makes someone a parent, am I right? (I have an adopted child so I know this is true...:D) ;)  
**


	25. Chapter 25

**Another huge thank you to my reviewers! You know who you are!! There are too many of you wonderful people to list here. :D **

**Okie dokie then, here we go with ch.25! I actually had time to write while rehearsals were going on, woohoo! I don't want to say too much about this so…;)**

**Chapter songs:**

_**Save Yourself **_**by Stabbing Westward (Scene 1)**

_**Lips of an Angel **_**by Hinder (Scene 2 and 3)**

* * *

Clary's head felt as if it were being squeezed in a vise. Part of her wanted to stay oblivious and in the dark, but a bigger part reminded her that waking was important. That she needed to regain and remain conscious. She fought against the tremendous pull of the blackness surrounding her and opened her eyes. Lifting her hand to her temple, she felt a large, sticky bump right next to her eye. She couldn't even recall anyone hitting her, all she remembered was Stephen striking Jace, and at the same time, she felt a blow to her own head and she blacked out. One of the hybrids must have knocked her out. It wouldn't surprise her as her attention was focused on Jace and not on her own situation.

As she opened her eyes, the room spun in a blur of dim light and shapes. She squeezed them shut once more, willing the vertigo to subside. Cracking open one lid, she peeked through making sure the room stood still. When it did, she opened them both and tried to make out the scene in front of her.

At least two dozen hybrids stood around the perimeter of the cell, their postures straight and uniform, almost like soldiers in formation. They formed a circle, blocking her view of what was happening in front of her. To either side of Clary were Luke, Simon, Meliorn, and Magnus. Luke's eyes met hers and a flash of pain broke over his face as his gaze landed on her head wound. Hard, cold arms held her up against a body. She knew instantly that it was Simon.

Clary reached over for Luke's hand. When his gaze landed on her palm, his mouth dropped open and he grasped her hand pulling it roughly to him. His eyes raked over the blood red rune for several seconds before he raised his eyes to hers once more. "What have you done?"

"I—I don't know. I dreamed it." She stared down at the rune and then looked back up at Luke.

Luke bit his lower lip and locked eyes with her. "Listen to me. It is imperative that you don't react to anything that might happen. Do you hear me? No matter what."

Clary's heart thudded in her chest. "Luke, what are you talking about?"

The group of hybrids in front of her started to shift and a space formed between them.

Luke glanced over Clary's head to Simon. "Simon, you have a good hold on her?"

Simon furrowed his brow. "Yeah, but—"

"Good," Luke interrupted. "Hold tight and do not let go. I don't care how much she struggles, do not let go."

"Luke?" Clary tried to ask again what Luke meant but her attention was pulled to the center of the room. Her breath caught in her throat. Jace stood in the middle of the room, his legs together and locked against the post near the bottom. His arms were stretched out to his sides and shackled tight to the board. Blond curls obstructed her view until he lifted his head and leaned it against the post behind him. His eyes met hers and a line formed between his brows as he took her in.

Clary pulled against Simon's grip, knowing she was shackled anyway, but not able to stand just sitting there watching Stephen do whatever it was he planned with Jace. Simon's hold tightened around her as Stephen stepped in front of Jace.

Luke turned to her, grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him. "Listen to me, Clary. The rune you applied to yourself, did you put it on anyone else?"

"Wh—what?" Clary struggled against Luke's hold on her face, trying to focus on Jace.

"The rune," he jerked on her chin again, "did you apply it to anyone else?" His eyes flickered to Jace and then back to her.

"Ye—yeah, Jace. Why? Luke, why are you freaking out?" She tried to keep her own voice at just a whisper to try to hide their discussion from the hybrids and Stephen.

Luke lowered his head for a moment and sighed. "I was afraid of that." He met her gaze. "Clary, this is a blood binding rune. Do you know what they do?"

She shook her head, her heart thudding hard enough she was sure everyone in the room could hear it.

Luke took her hand and held it up to her, about to speak when Stephen's voice broke through her concentration. "This is not how I had hoped this would turn out. Though I should have known—given your reputation," he said.

"Yeah, well, in this instance I'm glad to be a disappointment." Jace pulled against his restraints, the muscles in his arms and legs tightening under the sleek black of his Shadowhunter gear.

Stephen reached out and traced a finger along the side of Jace's face. The movement was careful and even loving. "You may look like me, but you remind me so much of your mother. She was just as impossible."

Jace jerked his face away. "At least one of my parents wasn't a raging lunatic. Maybe there's hope for me yet."

Stephen chuckled and held his hand up in front of his face, a glinting object clutched in his fingers. "I apologize in advance for the discomfort. If I could just take it by syringe I would, but the blood must be spilled for it to be effective." He lowered the blade to Jace and ran it along the inner part of his forearm, cutting a long slit. Jace squeezed his eyes shut and slammed his head back against the post.

Clary gasped as an intense burning started in her hand and a sharp sting ran along her forearm. Luke clasped his hand over her mouth as her eyes fell to her arm. Beads of blood formed in a line down the center of her sleeve. Her eyes widened in shock as red drops trailed down and dripped off her fingers to the dusty ground below. Fat tears fell from her eyes and rolled over Luke's hand. She didn't know what was happening. How was she being cut?

Clary looked up at Jace and Stephen. She could see the slit in Jace's arm but no blood emerged from the opening. With her eyes wide and questioning, she turned to Luke.

"The bond enables you to take his place, Clary. Everything they do to him, you experience. He feels some of the pain but you feel it in full force and take the damage," Luke whispered in her ear. "You have to stay as quiet as possible or Stephen will figure out that he can get what he wants if he harms you instead since it will work in the same way for Jace—if you are harmed, he will take your place. At least until the rune's power is exhausted. Once it turns completely black this 'place swap' will end. But the rune is permanent—which means you are bound to Jace for life. There's no telling what the results will be."

She took in a shuddering breath and nodded her head. The significance of the rune was not lost on her. There was a time not too long ago that she'd wished for this very thing—for her to take Jace's place. Now she was, and she would do it gladly.

Stephen stared at Jace's arm. His face conveying the confusion Clary had just experienced. She knew how important it was for him to not get what he came for. How detrimental it would be if he obtained Jace's blood. Clary tucked her damaged arm behind her back and Luke lowered his hand from her mouth just as Stephen turned to look at her. He narrowed his eyes as his gaze fell upon her heaving chest and tear streaked face.

He turned back to Jace. "What is this?"

"I don't know what you mean," Jace said, his own breathing labored.

"This," Stephen gestured to his arm, "what have you done?"

"I haven't done anything." Jace glared at him stubbornly.

"Really?" Stephen raised the knife once more and dragged it along Jace's other outstretched arm. "Then how do you explain this?" He pointed to the new bloodless slit in Jace's flesh.

Fire blazed in Clary's palm as the burn ran down her other arm and thick, warm blood soaked through her sleeve. She bit her lip and flung her head back against the wall as more hot tears streamed from her eyes. Taking in a few slow breaths to distract herself from the pain radiating in both her arms, she glanced down at her palm. Several lines in the rune had turned from the original red to a deep black. Burying her face into Simon's shoulder, she tried to collect herself and also hide her pain from Jace. She had no idea what he would do if he knew what the rune was really doing. He'd acted before like he knew what the rune was, but she was pretty certain he didn't know everything. If he had, he would have been seething mad at her for doing it.

"I don't know," Jace said. "Maybe someone upstairs thinks you're as crazy as we do and is making it impossible for you to get what you want."

Stephen cocked his head to the side. "Well, if I can't remove your blood right now, I guess you'll have to do."

Jace's face went completely blank. "What do you mean I'll 'have to do?'"

"I mean, that I'll just have to use you. I had hoped to avoid that, but seeing as you've gone and done something to prevent me from my original strategy, I'll just have to go with plan B." Stephen reached over to the table and grabbed the four full vials. After squeezing an amount of each into an empty glass container, he picked up a new syringe and sucked the dark liquid up into it, pushing on the end just enough that a single drop came from the end. He held up the needle and turned back to Jace.

"Wait a second; you want to inject me with that? You want to turn me into one of those things?" Jace cocked his head toward the hybrids.

"No, I want to turn you into something better. I told you, you're the key to all of this. You're blood won't turn from its original state because it's already stronger than any Downworlder blood. Yours has the ability to improve, bond, and amplify. So, you will remain the same, well for the most part anyway. You'll just have a few more abilities."

"No thanks. I like myself just the way I am, ask anyone."

Stephen leaned closer, his lips not far from Jace's ear. "This is a gift, can't you see that? You will be more powerful than any being on earth. Also, we will be able to use your blood to give others the same powers. It's everything we could ever want as Shadowhunters."

"How do you know for sure this won't turn me into a monster? You're willing to do this to your own flesh and blood? If so, you're sicker than even Valentine."

"Son, I'm willing to sacrifice anything for the cause."

"Then why not experiment on yourself!"

"You don't think I have?"

Jace stared at Stephen in astonishment.

"Of course I have. Something in my blood prevents the effects from lasting. Sure, I gained vampiric strength and the speed of the wolves, the cunning of the faeries and the magical knowledge of the warlocks, but it wouldn't bind to me. The same something that will protect you from it changing you. It's whatever strengths Valentine's experiments gave you that will allow you to hold onto the powers. I wouldn't do this if I thought it would harm you."

Jace laughed a dry, unhumorous laugh. "Yeah, well, forgive me if I don't believe that."

Clary shook her head violently. Not only did she not want Jace turned into some freak, she didn't want the same to happen to her. Would something like this even transfer over? She didn't even know and really didn't want to find out.

Luke wrapped an arm around her, holding her firmly against his side as well as Simon's. "Shh," he whispered as he clasped his hand over her mouth once more.

Tears already flowed down her cheeks as she met Jace's eyes. His brow furrowed and his gaze fell to the ground. His mouth dropped open as he no doubt noticed the pooling blood in the dust on the floor. He jerked his head back up and shook his head. "No. No, no, no." Struggling against the restraints, he continued to shout the word, over and over. Clary knew that in that moment, he realized exactly what the rune did. She hoped against hope he'd keep quiet about it. Somewhere inside she knew he would, because he would know that Stephen would understand it too and then he would get what he wanted.

Luke removed his hand from her mouth and she focused on Jace, her eyes locked with his. She mouthed the words "I love you," to him. His face contorted momentarily before he nodded his head and mouthed them back to her.

Stephen stepped closer to Jace, apparently oblivious to their silent conversation. Clary watched as Stephen leaned forward and whispered something in Jace's ear. To which he responded with a very loud and uncharacteristic—even for Jace—curse.

With the syringe clasped between two fingers and his thumb on the plunger, Stephen thrust the needle into Jace's neck. Clary felt the prick followed by an uncomfortable pressure at what she assumed was the mixture entering Jace's body. The heaviness traveled from the injection site down to her heart where it stopped, and for a brief instant, she felt nothing. Then as her heart pumped, an excruciating burn spread from that point outward, like ten thousand flaming knives were cutting and searing every vein in her body. Involuntarily, her chest lurched forward almost as if it was being pulled by a string, and a bloodcurdling scream escaped from her throat. She could not control the screams or the flailing as her body broke and burned under the effects of the serum. Her bones felt as though they were being snapped and ground into powder as her skin was being peeled away like the petals of a flower. In her mind, she knew none of this was happening to either of them, but she couldn't stop her body from reacting like it was. Even under Simon's and Luke's firm hold, her body bucked and thrashed in the extreme pain. Her eyes were clenched shut so she had no idea what was happening with Jace. She tried to opening them but the convulsing made that impossible.

Suddenly, all the pain localized in her palm and she was able to open her eyes. Her fist shook as the searing heat engulfed her hand. She unclenched it just as Jace did his and a blinding golden light filled the room. Surprised shouts followed by a loud crackling filled the cell and the corridor outside. As the pain faded, so did Clary's ability to remain conscious. Just before the darkness took her again, she met Jace's eyes. With their golden beauty ingrained in her mind, she allowed herself to fall into the deep abyss once more.

***

Simon squeezed his eyes shut against the painfully bright light erupting from both Jace and Clary. He held tight to her body even though it burned painfully against his ice-cold skin. Clary shook and convulsed in his arms, while her high pitched screams echoed throughout the cell. He realized her screams were not the only ones he heard. From every corner of the room, cries of pain followed by a sizzling rebounded through the cell.

After a moment, Clary's screams died down and she fell limp to his side as the light against his lids faded to the dim witchlight he'd grown accustomed to in the dank cell. Slowly, he opened his eyes. Widening them in astonishment, he took in the destruction before him. Not a single hybrid remained in the room. Dotting the chamber were piles of dust where they had once stood. He had no idea what had happened, or how they had been reduced to powder, but he was certainly glad they were no longer there.

Stephen knelt on the ground, his head hanging and his arms limp at his side. From the corridor came the pounding of footsteps. Within moments, the cell filled with dozens of Shadowhunters, all dressed in black gear and brandishing weapons of every shape and size. Isabelle and Alec's mother, Maryse, pushed through the crowd and stood next to Jace, pressing two fingers to his neck. Once satisfied he was alive, she pulled a small object from her pocket and drew a rune on his arm. When Jace lifted his head and stared out at her, she drew more runes on the shackles surrounding his wrists and ankles.

As he dropped to the floor, Maryse bent down to check him over but he pushed her off and crawled over to Clary. Out of the corner of his eye, Simon caught sight of several Shadowhunters, expressions of pure disbelief affixed to their faces, surround Stephen and bind his arms and legs with a strange blue fire. He got up and moved without a struggle, his face drawn and mournful.

Simon didn't catch much of what was happening in the center of the room after Jace reached them and wrenched Clary out of their grasp. As Jace's eyes fell on Clary's damaged body and pale white skin, his face contorted into an expression Simon never thought he would see on Jace. He took her limp hand in his shaking one and drew a rune on her inner wrist before burying his face into her hair, holding her to him and rocking her back and forth, whispering something to her that Simon couldn't hear.

A sound from the crowd drew Simon's attention away from Jace and Clary. Someone was pushing their way through the crowd. Within moments, Simon saw who that someone was. Her black hair flowed down from her head like ribbons of silk and her entire body was covered in black except for the gold and silver whip twisted around her wrist.

Isabelle's eyes widened as she stopped in front of him and stared down, looking like she really didn't know what to do with herself.

"Are you all right?" she asked him, her voice tight and cautious.

Simon nodded, not sure why his tongue felt like a piece of year old cheese.

She stepped closer to Simon and then knelt down right in front of him. As her eyes met his, he realized what a fool he'd been. He should never have let her go so easily and wished he could take it back. "Isabelle—"

"You're such an idiot, Simon."

"Wh—what?" he stammered.

She cocked her head to the side letting ebony waves tumble down her shoulders. "I thought I was being pretty obvious but I guess you were too stupid to see it."

Simon raised his brows. "Isabelle, I have no idea what you're talking about."

She let out a loud huff. "I'm talking about this." She reached forward, grabbed him around the back of the neck and yanked him forward, crushing her lips to his. Simon's eyes flew open in surprise, but once he got his barrings, he placed his hands on either side of her face and held her to him. Isabelle slid her hand from behind his neck and placed it on his cheek, and then her other hand on the opposite one. She kissed him hungrily, like she'd been starving and had finally found food.

"You're such an idiot," she repeated against his lips.

"I know. I'm sorry. I didn't know."

She pulled away. "How could you not? I mean, I threw myself at you time and time again. Are you really that dense?"

He shrugged. "Apparently so."

Isabelle lifted her hand and drew a blood-red tipped finger from the hair on his forehead, down his cheek, ending at his chin. "Well, I'm making it clear now. Okay?"

Simon nodded. "Okay."

Isabelle grinned and leaned down to him once more, brushing her lips against his. Yes, he had been stupid. He had been an idiot. But no more. There was not a chance in the world he would be that dense again.

***

Clary's head swam with images she wanted to erase. The knife slicing through Jace's arm. The look on his face when he realized what the rune really did. The sound of his voice as he begged for it to stop. All she wanted was to protect him, and through her protecting she'd hurt him even more. She knew better than anyone how much seeing the one you loved hurt more than actually feeling the pain yourself. But she couldn't let Stephen do to him what he planned. She had to protect him, and this was the only way she knew how.

She felt herself being pulled forward through the haze. A voice whispered to her, over and over again. _Please Clary, come back. I need you. Come back._ She knew that voice, and more than anything she wanted to come back to him.

As her consciousness expanded, she felt her body wrapped in someone's arms. His breath fanned over her neck as he whispered the words in her ear. When she could finally feel her arms, she lifted her hand and brushed it through his hair. His head jerked up and she opened her eyes meeting his.

"Hey." She grinned, weakly.

Jace raised his hand and ran his fingers through the hair lying across her forehead. "Hey."

"So," she laid her palm against his cheek, "how much trouble am I in?"

"Loads." He grinned.

"I didn't know what it did. I'm sorry if I scared you."

"As much as I'd like to be mad at you, I really can't be since I'd do the same thing if things were reversed."

Clary ran her fingers over his cheeks, studying him carefully. "Are you okay?"

Jace glanced down at his body and shook his head. "I don't know. I feel normal right now, but—I don't know."

Clary reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him to her and nestling her face against his shoulder. "I want to go home, Jace. Will you take me home?"

"Of course." He pulled back, cupped her face in his hands and touched his lips to hers. "Let's go home."

* * *

**Okay, we're not quite done yet…but soon…sniff. We'll have some repercussions for Jace after this…I have some ideas. Plus, I think we need to see Jace kill some stuff… Also, we need some more fluff…don't you agree?**

**I don't have anything ready for a teaser right now so I won't be able to send one yet...*cries*  
**


	26. Chapter 26

**Whew! It's been awhile!! I am so glad to be home from our trip! The wedding was very nice—albeit cold!! Brrr…winter in Michigan is no fun at all! I much prefer the chilly south. :D**

**Okay, down to the important business . . . this chapter is angsty. Just warning you now. It's sad and you'll probably just want to do to Jace what Clary does…;) Sniff…**

**Chapter Songs: --Okay, as you know, I love EVERY song I use, but these were so…appropriate. The rage in the first one just about gave me chills for how perfect it was. And the second—well, if you know the song, you'll know just how perfect it is! Go listen if you haven't heard either because they are both so awesomely perfect! (Playlist link in my profile of course).**

_**Hemorrhage**_** by Fuel (Scene 1 -Jace) **

_**A Message**_** by Coldplay (Scene 2 -Clary)**

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The punching bag hanging in the corner mocked him. Its well-worn red outer screamed out at him, willing him to let it all go, to lose himself in his rage and self-hatred. Jace stared at it with contempt. He _wanted_ to let it all out; punch until his heart stopped aching and his brain quit obsessing. Until every single thing on his mind was gone and replaced by pure adrenaline and exhaustion—maybe even a little pain in his hands wouldn't be bad either. It was as if he craved it—the physical exertion and pain—because maybe it would cover up the much worse agony in his heart.

He didn't want to think about Stephen or the things he felt. He didn't want to think about Clary or the fact that he hadn't really touched her since it all happened. All he wanted was to let the beast out, to let it triumph over everything else. Tired didn't even come close to describing how he felt about the mask he'd been sporting since that day. The day everything in his life had imploded around him, sending him deep inside himself where no one else could touch him. Where no one could find him.

Glancing to the other corner of the training room where Clary and Isabelle were stretching for their morning session, longing filled him so completely that his chest clenched around his heart, causing the ache to triple. He balled his fists and squeezed until his knuckles turned white. Clary caught his eye briefly before he turned away. But not before he saw the hurt in her gaze. She was in pain too, and it was all his fault. The more she tried to get close to him, the more he pulled away. It wasn't that he wanted to distance himself, he just didn't know what else to do. He couldn't risk letting her close to him. Not only did he not know how to control the after affects of the serum, but he couldn't fathom subjecting her to everything he was feeling.

Normally, keeping the straight, blank façade up wasn't much of a problem, but something happened to him that day. Something tore inside him that he wasn't sure could ever be repaired. Because of this, he wasn't sure he could hide it once he let her in. He wasn't positive he could control his emotions any longer with her. Although he'd been weaker with her than any other person, he wasn't ready to bare himself quite so much—especially since he wasn't really even sure himself how he felt. All he knew was that it hurt. It hurt more than any physical or emotional pain he'd ever experienced before.

He dealt with his frustration the way he always had—training and fighting. Unfortunately, with the addition of the "complications" from Stephen's experiment, he couldn't even do that to his satisfaction anymore. It hadn't been long after they'd arrived home that he started feeling—different. He'd always been slightly faster and stronger than the others, but this was so much more than that. The first instance occurred when he'd tried to open his bedroom door and ripped it completely off the hinges without even exerting much pressure. Maryse hadn't been happy in the least, but she also hadn't said anything to him, knowing it wasn't something he could help. The second time was when he'd tried to jog to the front gate and found himself a few blocks away in less time than it normally took to stand. The frustrating thing was that it wasn't like the abilities stayed constant. They came and went without any rhyme or reason. He had no idea if they were permanent or if they'd eventually leave. He hoped for the latter because, as much fun as he could probably have being that strong and fast, it complicated things in other areas he was much more concerned about—specifically his relationship with Clary.

Since he'd begun displaying these abilities, he'd automatically shied away from any type of physical contact with her. Not that he didn't want to touch her, to be with her, but he was scared out of his mind that, at any moment, the freakish strength would overcome him and he'd hurt her in some way. He just couldn't risk that. Even when she looked at him, her eyes pleading with him to just give her something, anything, he pulled back, denying every urge in his body to just let her in. Her safety was more important than anything else in this world and he was determined to keep it that way.

Luckily, Clary had only felt small shockwaves of the symptoms he did through their bond. She had no idea to what extent he was experiencing them because he hid it from her with great skill. It wasn't like keeping things from people was hard for him. He'd perfected the art over many years of hiding within himself. At least now those skills were useful.

It was with all those thoughts and feeling swirling within him that he peered over at the bag in front of him. The padded gloves sat on the floor next to the rest of his gear. He glanced down at his scarred hands and lost all concern over hurting them, in fact, he wished for it. What did he care if he broke a few bones, bloodied a few knuckles?

Clary's laughter filtered over from her position across the training room, filling him with a need so powerful it almost overshadowed his rage. Jace closed his eyes and stretched his neck from side-to-side, shaking his hands out at his sides before assuming a fighting stance. Valentine's face appeared behind his eyes. His mouth was fixed into a sneer as he stood over Jace's trembling child-like form in the study of their home after he'd commenced his scolding over weakness. Without opening his eyes, Jace threw his fist forward, contacting the rough surface with an unprotected knuckle. Pain sliced through his hand, shooting up his arm in small bursts. That wasn't so bad.

Several more visualizations of Valentine and that many more punches later, his hands throbbed with a pain that actually cleared his mind and helped him focus. Before he had a chance to calm himself, Stephen's face flashed in his mind. Without even pausing, he threw several punches in quick succession into the firm bag, not even stopping when he felt the crack of bones in one of his hands. The pain searing through his body with each jab solidified his desire to keep going. Pain meant he could still feel something other than the absolute rage and agony that clouded every day. As he continued to assault the bag, another face filled his vision, but this time it was one he knew almost better than anyone else's, it was his own. To his surprise, this image filled him with more revulsion than the others. More than anything, he wanted to destroy this vision. Wanted to make it pay for everything that had gone wrong in his life. Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, he knew it was irrational to blame himself for the actions of others, but he couldn't help but wonder if he had been stronger maybe it could have ended sooner. Not just the recent events with Stephen but earlier with Valentine as well. Maybe if he hadn't been so weak and needy for affection, he could have stopped it before it ruined him completely. Was he ruined? He couldn't even tell anymore. All he knew was that he felt absolutely decimated.

Rage built inside him with every punch, growing stronger until his entire body radiated with it. Fire shot through his veins, fueling the rage and spilling over in a massive hemorrhage of self disgust. With an unintentional cry of frustration, he let out one last strike, putting every ounce of hatred and anger he could muster into it, and struck the bag. As his fist impacted the rough fabric, the force of it sent the bag rocking violently away from him, ripping the chains from the ceiling above and sending the entire thing rocketing across the room. Pieces of plaster rained down on him, embedding themselves into his hair and scattering across the ground at his feet.

Silence permeated the area as the girls stopped their training to no doubt stare at him. He felt their eyes on his back, but neither said a word. After what seemed like hours, two distinct sets of footsteps sounded on the hard floor. One veered off in the direction of the doors, the other stopped just behind him. He dropped his head and let out a deep breath as his muscles clenched in his back, knowing that his avoidance of her was about to end.

***

Clary stepped up cautiously behind him. His shoulders were set in a stiff and warning position—not one she normally messed with, but the way he'd attacked the punching bag told her that no matter what he said he needed her.

He'd been so distant ever since what happened with Stephen. Not that she blamed him. He'd had nothing but heartbreak where his father was concerned. She wished she could take all the pain away. If the rune worked that way, she would gladly do it. Unfortunately, it had only worked for physical things not emotional and it had burnt out on that when Stephen had injected Jace with the serum. All she wanted was to be there for him, but he wouldn't allow it—effectively pushing her away every time she tried to get close. She shook her head, telling herself that she wouldn't let him do it anymore.

With her hand shaking, she reached out and tentatively touched his shoulder. She felt him tense under her fingers. Her breath hitched as her chest clenched in response.

"Jace," she whispered, not having a clue as to what to say, but wanting to say something anyway.

"I'm fine," came his ragged reply.

She furrowed her brow and gripped him harder. "Jace, please."

"I said I'm fine Clary. Just . . . go."

"No. I'm not going to let you do this anymore, Jace."

"Clary," his voice broke, "please."

Clary swallowed against the lump in her throat. She couldn't stand to see him in so much pain, especially when he wouldn't let her help him. "Please, Jace. Don't hide from me. Let me help you." She stepped closer to him, placing her other hand on his opposite shoulder and pressing her face to the skin bared just between his shoulder blades. Closing her eyes, she laid her forehead against him. "Please let me in."

A shudder ripped through his body as he let out a breath. Slowly, he turned to face her, her hands falling from him as he pivoted. She opened her eyes, her gaze falling on his broken and bleeding hands. "Jace," she whispered as she gingerly lifted one in her hands.

"It's fine," he said.

She lifted her eyes to his. The once vibrant, golden irises were blank and dead as they stared out at her. "No. It's not," she said quietly as she reached into her pocket and pulled out her stele, placing the healing rune on the inside of his wrist. "Why are you doing this?" She met his gaze again.

"Doing what?"

"Hurting yourself and . . . and pushing me away."

He closed his eyes briefly before meeting hers again. "Because it's better than hurting you."

Clary wasn't positive, but she thought that his answer was probably true for both questions. She reached up and ran her fingers along his cheek. "You don't need to do this alone. I wish you could see that."

"Clary, you don't understand."

"You're right. I don't. But that isn't my fault. You won't let me in. Maybe if you did, I would."

He shook his head and bit his lower lip.

"Please."

"Clary—" His voice shook.

"Please don't shut me out anymore, Jace."

His face contorted as a straggled cry escaped from his lips and he fell to his knees in front of her. He buried his face in her stomach and gripped her thighs with his hands. Clary gasped as she felt him shudder and break before her. Jace had always been the picture of control, sometimes to a fault. But now, as she felt his tears soak through her shirt and his body shake against her, she knew the extent of his pain and how much he'd been holding back—not only from her but from everyone.

Her breath hitched as a knot of pain traveled up her throat and lodged itself there. Tears streamed down her cheeks as his pain now became hers. Her hands twisted themselves in his soft curls as he sobbed into her. Unable to stand any longer, she pried his hands from her and sank down with him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him as close as she could. His arms snaked around her, holding onto her as if she were a life raft coming to his rescue. It was desperate and needy, but she was more than willing to be that for him.

After several minutes, his shaking slowed and he fell limp in her arms. She took a few more minutes to soothe him by running her fingers through his hair and rubbing circles over his back. He never moved, not even to wipe his face.

"Tell me," she said softly, continuing her calming caresses.

He shook his head into her shoulder. "I can't."

"Why not?"

"I don't know," he whispered.

"Try."

He let out a deep breath and pulled back, finally looking her in the face. She tried to control her reaction to seeing him broken so completely. His eyes were red and puffy, his cheeks streaked with the remnants of tears. Most of all he just looked—destroyed. There was no better word to describe what she saw. Every ounce of the hard, unreachable Jace was gone and all that remained was this broken, bleeding soul aching for someone to fix it—regardless of whether it knew it or not.

"I'm not good, Clary. I thought maybe I was for awhile, but now I know I'm not. There's just no way I could be."

Clary narrowed her eyes. "What are you talking about?"

Jace's face fell again and Clary feared he may start to cry once more. "Look at the examples I've had. First Valentine, who was a bigger monster than anyone could have imagined. He raised me to be like him. To have the same ideals and to fight like him. I thought that maybe since I learned he wasn't my real father that I might have a chance but now—now I learn that my real father was just as screwed up. I mean, I've got both the nature and nurture side screwed up. How can I be good, Clary? How can I be okay?"

Clary reached forward and took his face in her hands, swiping her thumbs over his cheeks and removing any trace of the tears that had covered them moments before. "Because you're you, Jace. That's how. You're not them and you're not like them—in any way."

"But how do you know that? What if I snap—it's possible right?" His eyes pleaded with her.

She shook her head. "No, it's not. I know because I know you. I _feel_ you. Don't you know that?"

He closed his eyes and lowered his head. "Clary."

"No. Don't shut me out again." She jerked his face back up to hers. "Please." Leaning forward she rested her forehead against his. "Let me take care of you."

He let out a shuddering breath and nodded his head. Clary closed the distance between them and placed her lips on his. Just as he started to respond to her kiss, he stiffened and pulled away.

"No. I—I can't," he said.

Clary's mouth dropped open. "Wh—what?"

His face contorted once more. "I don't want to hurt you and I—I can't control this." He gestured to his body meaning the serum effects. It wasn't until that moment that she finally grasped what they were doing to him. She'd seen the results of the door and now the bag but she didn't realize he was struggling so much with it.

Clary let out a sigh and scooted forward on her knees until their bodies were flush against each other and she could feel his breath on her face. Taking his hands in hers and feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against her chest, she looked up at him. "You could never hurt me. I know you couldn't."

He closed his eyes. "But I can't control it," he repeated.

She leaned in until her lips barely touched his. "Try," she breathed.

With a shudder, he surrendered and allowed her to kiss him. She felt his heart accelerate as his hands released hers and made their way around her back. Slowly, she raised her hands to his neck, dragging her fingers up to his jaw and tracing it back behind his ears, grabbing two fistfuls of his hair and pulling him closer to her. He groaned into her mouth just before his body stiffened and he prepared to pull away.

But she wasn't having any of that and she twisted her hands tighter in his hair. "Don't," she said against his lips. "I need you. I need you so much it hurts. Please. If it makes it easier, I'll do everything. Just please . . ." She was very aware of the begging in her voice, but at that moment, she really didn't care. It had been so long since he'd touched her, since they'd been together and she needed to feel him again. Needed to be close to him in a way she couldn't be close to anyone else. And she had a suspicion that he needed her the same way. More pain than was fair had been thrust on the both of them in such a short amount of time that they deserved some time to just forget and feel.

With a short nod, he tightened his grip around her waist and stood. Scooping her up into his arms, he raced out the door and down the hall to his room. After a moment of fumbling at the handle, they were inside; her back pushed against the wall as his body pressed tightly against her. His need and hers combined into a massive explosion of touching and tearing of clothing until they both stood almost completely bare, save for her gray sports bra and boyshort panties and him in her favorite black boxer briefs. She pulled away from his kiss only to shove him backward to the bed. He sat on the edge and gazed up at her, the pain and emptiness in his eyes replaced by excitement and need as he moved his hands to her hips.

She smiled down at him as she moved to stand with her legs on either side of his before lowering herself onto his lap. Her eyes stayed locked on his as she raised her hands to his face and traced his cheekbones back until her fingers mingled in the hair just above his ears. "Don't hide from me anymore, okay? I just want to take care of you like you do me."

His hand moved from her hip up her back, his fingers tracing along her spine all the way up to her neck. A shiver shot through her body at his touch. "It's not easy for me, Clary, but I'll try."

She smiled and lowered he face back down to his, catching his lower lip between hers. "Thank you," she whispered.

He responded by opening his mouth against hers and sliding his hands forward to hold her face against his. In that moment, she felt all his pain disappear. None of the stiffness remained in his shoulders, none of the veiled calmness masked his features. He was just Jace, and she loved the fact that she helped him to recapture that. Even if it only lasted for these fleeting moments, at least for now, that would be enough. Eventually she would succeed and bringing him back to life fully. No matter what it took, she would convince him that he was worthy and that he was so much more than the two men that claimed to be his father. Because to her, he was all that was good and worthwhile in this world. To her, he was everything.

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**Can you say mush? Yeah, I thought so. Sigh…I needed that. :D Be back with more later…;) And HOORAY for the return of Jace's underwear...:D  
**

**And before you all want to shoot me over 'breaking' Jace -- I know the guy is like some super solid rock of emotion, but in my world, Clary is the one person he can be vulnerable with and I wanted him to show her everything, even weakness. You can hate me if you want, but well, there it is...;)  
**


	27. Chapter 27

**This chapter is REALLY long. Sorry! The first part is very angsty and fluffy. I actually almost cried writing part of it…sniff. The last part we see the return of badass Jace, oh yeah! The underwear make a small appearance (for those of you who look forward to them…;)) There's also some towel action. :D Oh and this is an ALL Jace POV chapter! WOOHOO!**

**Now, okay, I was going to end this story, but I think I have a whole new idea brewing for the effects of what Stephen did to Jace…I dunno…are you all sick of this story yet? ;)**

**Chapter songs (Listen to these…for serious):**

_**Saved**_** by The Spill Canvas (Scene 1 – Jace thoughts)**

_**Two is Better than One**_** by Boys Like Girls (Scene 1 – Jace and Clary convo)**

_**Pain**_** by Jimmy Eat World (Scene 3)**

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He broke. Jace Lightwood finally freaking broke. And he wasn't even alone, he was with her. She'd seen everything. Every last tear and sob. The last thing he'd wanted was to do it in front of her. For so long he'd held everything inside, never allowing a lapse in his perfectly controlled armor. He should have known better than to look her in the eye. To allow her to touch him, comfort him. All morning he'd felt it, festering like an open wound in his soul. It would have been better to just hide in his room all day until it passed. Eventually it would have—or so he'd hoped. But he'd ignored his more intelligent side, insisting that he was tough enough to stick it out. To go through the motions and stifle the pain. He was wrong.

As he gazed up at the shadowed ceiling, he wondered what she thought about seeing him that way. Did she feel he was weaker somehow, that he was less of a man for breaking so easily in front of her? Shaking his head, he pushed the thought back. No, those were Valentine's words rising to the surface of the cess pool portion of his mind, trying to bury him deep in all the crap he'd drilled into Jace's head for all those years. Crying didn't make him weak, it made him human. It made him a man worthy of Clary. At least he hoped it did. He still wasn't sure. The time had finally come for him to admit to himself that he had no idea what made him worthy or not. But, somehow, the fact that he could allow himself to show vulnerability with her had to be something. It had to prove something about him. Maybe it showed just how unlike Valentine and Stephen he was. Both men lived for their own goals and aspirations, not caring who they destroyed on the way to victory. Jace did care, he refused to take anyone down with him. If he was going to self destruct he would do it alone—at least that had been his plan his whole life until this afternoon. He'd broken his number one rule and let himself go in front of someone else.

He wasn't stupid, he knew she'd suffered in his pain. Her tears felt just as wet on the top of his head as he was sure his had as they soaked through her shirt. As Clary shifted at his side, nuzzling her head into the crook of his neck and sliding her hand across his chest, he raised his arms and pressed his palms to his eyes. What would he say to her when she awoke? Would she want to talk about it? Did he? He didn't even know. Part of him did and part of him wanted to retreat back into himself once more and pretend it never happened.

As he lowered his hands, tucking one arm around Clary's back and allowing his fingers to mingle in her hair, a soft glow creeped through the window and stretched across the floor, inching closer and closer to them. He turned his face toward the dim orange light, wondering what the new day would hold for him, for any of them. Would he finally be able to feel the peace he so desperately sought, or would the old wounds burst open once again, filling him with all the rage and self-loathing he'd held before. His body tensed and he let out a slow sigh at the thought.

"Are you all right?"

Jace jerked at the sound of her voice, unaware that she had woken. "You're awake?"

"Um hmm. Don't avoid my question."

"I'm not. You just surprised me. Usually I'm much more aware of your state of consciousness. I must be losing my touch."

"Jace," she said with an air of irritability.

He sighed and twirled a piece of her hair around his finger. "I don't know, Clary."

She scooted even closer, pressing her body into his and planting a small kiss to his neck where it meets his shoulder. "How can I help?"

"I don't know that either. Maybe I'm just a lost cause. Completely broken with no chance of repair."

Clary rose up on one elbow and frowned at him. "You don't really believe that."

He lowered his gaze, unable to look her in the eye. "Maybe I do."

She sighed and pulled herself up until her forehead rested on his and her hands were in his hair, brushing the unruly curls back behind his ears. "I wish you could see yourself through my eyes. Then you might know just how wrong you are. Do you want to know what I see?"

Jace said nothing, just focused on the tiny pale freckles spattered across her nose and the feel of her fingers running through his hair.

"I see a strong, brave, selfless man who would give anything to do what's right and to save those he loves. But I also see that little boy that no one cared for the way they should have. I see every wall you've constructed to keep that boy locked away, safe from prying eyes and anyone who might want to hurt him again. But you don't have to worry with me, because I love that man and I love that little boy more than anything and I would never, ever hurt either of them. You don't have to do or say anything that makes you uncomfortable, but I promise you that when you show me those darkest, scariest parts of yourself, I won't turn away from you. I won't reject you. I want every part of you, everything. Because there isn't a single thing you could show me that would make me love you less, would make me want you less. This," she gestured between the two of them, "is it for me. Everything I am is yours. Everything I ever will be is yours. I want you to have all of me, always."

Jace reached up and held her face between his hands, keeping her pressed against him and closing his eyes. "I don't deserve you. You're way too good for me. I'm so damaged, Clary. I'm so—"

She placed a finger to his lips. "Shh. We're all damaged. Every single one of us, in one way or another. I know that what you've been through is way worse than any of us can relate to, but that doesn't make you less than any of us. Stay open to me and I'll help you see that."

He shook his head, still holding her face. "I don't know if I can. I've spent my whole life hiding that part of myself, I'm not even sure I know how to let it out."

"Well," she hesitated, "what happened yesterday?"

Jace let out a slow breath and dropped his hands. "I don't know. I lost it, I guess. The whole day I felt—off, like something was tearing me apart from the inside out. It felt like—like I was out of control. I didn't like it."

Clary resumed running her fingers through his hair, wrapping a curl loosely around her finger. "Sometimes losing control is the only way we can find ourselves."

Jace opened his eyes and grinned up at her. "Are you trying to turn me into a sissy?"

She smirked. "You a sissy? Never. I honestly don't think that's possible. I don't care how much emotion you show, you'll still be more man than any other male I know."

Jace chuckled. "Way to stroke my already inflated ego."

"That's what I'm here for."

Jace raised his hands to her face once more and pushed her back to look into her eyes. As he stared into the sea of green before him, he felt it. The reason and desire to share himself completely and fully. He didn't want to hide from her anymore. He wanted her to have all of him, too. No matter whether it was good or bad. She deserved nothing less. "Do you know what I thought the first time I saw you at Pandemonium?"

She shook her head, causing a rain of fire to cascade over her face.

He brushed a stray curl back that had fallen across her cheek. "Well, after I picked my jaw up off the floor I thought, now here's a girl that could tame even me. With your mess of red hair and defiant expression, you had me the instant you walked into that back room. If you'd told me, even in that first moment, to drop everything and follow you, I would have because even then I knew you were meant for me. I knew that you were the only person who could find me somewhere in this jumbled mess. I felt it as it melted every bit of ice I'd let accumulate around my heart and I belonged to you. You owned me, Clary, you still do. Every part of me is yours, too. I can't live, I can't _breathe_ without you. And the funny thing is, I don't think I was before you came along. I was just—existing. Now I'm alive. As hard as it is for me to let it all go, I don't want to go back in the dark again. I don't want to disappear. Help me stay undone. Help me stay with you."

Fat tears fell from her eyes and trailed along his fingers. "Jace," she whispered.

He lowered her face to his and kissed away the tears still falling. "I wish I could find the words to tell you how I feel. I can say I love you, I need you, I want you, I _adore_ you, but none of them are enough. I've searched and searched to find the right ones but there are just none. So, if you'll let me, I'll spend the rest of my life trying to show you."

A squeak escaped from Clary's lips as she fought to hold back a sob. "How can you say you're not good enough, that you're too damaged, and still manage to say something so incredibly beautiful? Something that is so much better than a simple 'I love you'? You're so much more than you think." She pulled back and moved her hands to his cheeks, stroking them with her thumbs. "I love you, I need you, I want you, and I _adore_ you, too. And you're right, none of them are enough but they're all the words we have."

Jace lifted his chin, brushed his lips against hers and spoke against her mouth. "Then how about no more words?"

Clary bit her lip and grinned, nodding her head in agreement.

Jace pulled her face down to meet his and kissed her softly, knowing that there was no rush, no reason to hurry anything along. Even though he knew he could never fully express how much he felt, he'd never stop trying. He moved his arms to wrap around her, pulling her as close as he possibly could get her. Her fingers twisted in his hair, holding his face tightly against hers as she opened her mouth against his, allowing her taste to fill him completely. Warmth flooded his body, enveloping him and her in its cocoon. Every thought, worry, and insecurity left his mind as he focused on her, what she was doing to him and what he was doing to her. In that instant, the world stopped turning and everything ceased to exist. Everything except them.

***

After Clary left, the painful pressure returned, but not near the intensity it had been. This was something Jace could deal with. It really wasn't much worse than what he'd lived with all the years before Clary entered his life.

When the door clicked shut behind her, he rolled out of bed and made his way into the bathroom. He glanced at himself in the mirror, grimaced and turned to the shower. After twisting the knobs to make the water as hot as he could stand, he stepped under the spray, placing both hands on the cool marble wall and leaning against them. The steaming water flowed over his head and down his back, the heat kneading his stiff muscles. He stood under the stream for a long time, longer than normal, just trying to calm himself enough to join the others. Where was all the anger coming from? Was it from seeing his real father and learning who he really was? Or was it something else? The whole situation had been difficult for him from the beginning, but it had grown so much worse over the last week. What had changed over the course of seven days that had made the pain and anger almost unbearable?

With a sigh, he twisted the knobs again, opened the door and grabbed a white towel from the rack. He rubbed it over his hair and just as he wrapped it around his waist, he heard a knock at his door. Scowling he made sure the towel was tight and made his way out of the bathroom and opened the door a crack.

"Clary?" He opened the door wider.

Her cheeks flushed slightly as she took in his attire.

He quirked an eyebrow. "You can't tell me seeing me in a towel embarrasses you."

"No." She shook her head. "I think I just like it too much." Her cheeks flared brighter.

Jace chuckled and leaned against the door frame. "Did you want something?"

"Oh. I don't know . . . I was in my room getting ready and I—well, this may sound stupid, but I felt like you needed me."

He raised his brows.

"I know, it's dumb. But I just got this overwhelming feeling of sadness and I think anger? Anyway, I sort of felt like it was coming from you."

He stared at her. "You—you felt that?"

"So—so it was you?"

He nodded his head.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I just started—well, you know, feeling some of that stuff again. But it wasn't as bad. Wait a second—so you felt what I was feeling? Is that the first time?"

Clary shrugged. "I don't know. I mean, I've been feeling uneasy all week and maybe that was me sensing how you were feeling then too, but it's never been that strong before. Do you think this has something to do with the rune?"

"Well hell, I don't know. But if it is, I'm sorry."

"What are you apologizing for?"

"For feeling all this crap that apparently you get the pleasure of feeling too."

She rolled her eyes. "It's not like you can help it Jace. Plus, if it works from you to me, I'm assuming it'll work in reverse too?"

"Double hell."

"Shut up." Clary slapped at his arm, before allowing her gaze to travel over his towel clad body once more.

Jace widened the door. "You wanna come in?"

"That's," she let out a slow breath, "probably not a very good idea."

"Oh, come on. Your self control isn't that bad is it?"

She raised her eyes to his. "Have you looked at yourself in that?"

"I know. It's really disgusting how sexy I am."

"It really is." Clary nodded her head while she continued to study him.

He held out his hand and grinned. "Get in here. I have enough control for the both of us."

Clary shook her head as a huge smile broke over her lips and she grabbed his hand. He pulled her inside, kicking the door shut behind her and placing a chaste kiss on her lips. "Just give me a sec to get dressed."

"Okay," she said as she turned her gaze to his bookshelf, giving him privacy to finish getting ready.

He chuckled and discarded his towel, throwing it at her head.

"You're such a jerk." She pushed the towel off her but didn't turn around.

"I know, but you love it and you know it."

"Sadly, yes." She pulled a large worn volume from the shelf as he turned toward the dresser and quickly pulled out a pair of red boxer briefs.

After slipping into them, he grabbed his jeans from the day before along with a white t-shirt and threw them on over top. "Okay. I'm covered up."

"Are you sure?"

"Why would I lie about that?"

"Are you forgetting the very prominent point of you being a jerk?"

He laughed and moved up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and moving her hair with his face to plant a small kiss on her neck. "Does it feel like I was lying?"

She twisted in his arms and grabbed his face in her hands, kissing him lightly. "No." She smiled. "Hey, Isabelle just told me that she and Simon were meeting up at Pandemonium. She asked if we wanted to go with. You wanna?"

"You're asking me to hang out with Isabelle and the bloodsucker? For a whole night? Where they'll probably make out in front of us?" He feigned a shudder.

"Sure. But I'll make sure you're much too busy to notice them if they start to make out."

"You're an evil woman."

She wrinkled her nose and kissed him again. "I learned my diabolical ways from the best."

***

Pandemonium was just as crowded as usual. Jace scanned the hordes instinctually for any demonic creatures in hiding. Thankfully, there were none—at least not yet. His hand moved to his side, brushing over the weapons he'd tucked into his jeans just in case.

The music blared louder than normal, and the glaring lights irritated his eyes. He raised a hand to help block a bit of the intense brightness as Clary glanced up at him, her brow furrowing. He dropped his hand and grinned down at her, which she returned.

Before they'd even really made it through the door, Isabelle and Clary started moving to the music and grasping at him and Simon to join them. Jace allowed Clary to lead him to the center of the mass and moved with her as she swayed on the dance floor. Simon and Isabelle were doing a bit of something Jace wouldn't really call dancing and tried very hard to avert his gaze.

After several songs, Clary smiled up at him and said breathlessly, "I'm thirsty."

"Okay, want me to get you something?"

She nodded. "I'll come with you. I need to use the restroom anyway." She grasped his hand and pulled him toward the bar. Her energy astounded him, maybe she needed something caffeine free.

"I don't care what you get me." She grinned. "I'll be right back."

Jace watched her back as she disappeared down the hall toward the restrooms. He shook his head and chuckled to himself as his girl flitted away from him. _His_ girl. Even though he knew she was, he never really thought about her that way. Not with those words anyway. After he'd ordered drinks from the bartender, he spared one last glance at the hallway then turned back to the dance floor. A couple of giggling girls walked past him, their eyes raking over him and their smiles suggestive. He ignored them. For a moment, his gaze landed on Isabelle and Simon, but before he could make out what they were doing he shifted away, not wanting the image of them doing _anything_ ingrained in his mind.

As he stood there studying the crowd and waiting for Clary, a jolt of panic shot through him. He grasped at his chest wondering where in the world it came from. Glancing back toward the hallway, he saw nothing out of the ordinary. He narrowed his eyes and turned toward the opening. Suddenly a loud screech sounded in his ears, almost like the sound a microphone makes when someone gets too close to the amplifiers. He reached up and covered his ears against the grating squeal. When he removed his hands, he noticed that things sounded—different. Louder, more precise. It was at that moment that he heard it.

_Hey pretty thing, where do you think you're going? _A male voice spoke.

_ It's a club, where do you think I'm going. Excuse me. _Clary's voice invaded his mind.

_What's your hurry? Got someone waiting for you?_

_ As a matter of fact, I do, so if you could just mo—hey, don't touch me!_

Jace's feet pulled him toward the back hallway, even though he couldn't see her. Somehow, he knew she was back there.

_Did you hear that Mark? She said to touch her._ The man's words slurred.

_I said _don't_ touch me you idiot!_

_ Aww, come on, Sweetness. We just wanna have a little fun._

_ I swear if you touch me again I'll—_

Two distinct males laughed_. Did you hear that Mark? I think she's trying to threaten us. Is that what you're trying to do Sweetness? Threaten us? You're a little too small to be doing that._

_ Size doesn't matter. I'm sure someone has tried to tell you that in the past._

_ I don't think I like your mouth. Grab her Mark._

_ I said don't—_

Jace rounded the corner, spying a large man blocking the hallway. A pair of thin legs he knew well peeked out from in front of the man. Jace stepped up behind him and cleared his throat. "Didn't anyone tell you that when a girl says stop, you stop?"

The man turned around slowly. He was bigger and taller than Jace, his arms bulged beneath his tight black t-shirt and his greasy black hair clung to his head, falling is long straggles. Clary breathed an audible sigh of relief as the man glared down at Jace.

"And just who the hell are you and what business is it of yours?"

Jace let out a slow breath, trying to control the rage building in his chest, but almost wanting him to start something. "I would take offense to any ape such as yourself picking on a girl, but it just so happens that you've regrettably chosen _my_ girl this time."

The man raised a greasy eyebrow. "Your girl, huh? Did you hear that Mark. This boy is here defending _his_ girl."

Jace nodded, squeezing his fist at his side, feeling the strange build in his muscles he'd felt the day before when he'd knocked the punching bag out of the ceiling. "That's right, so unless you'd like to start something I'm quite certain you can't finish, I'd suggest you let her go. Now."

The man laughed. "Is that so? You think you could take us both?"

Jace peered around the hulking man to the one who had Clary locked in his grasp. Both men were comparable in size. He met the man's eyes again. "Pretty sure, yeah."

The man threw his head back and laughed just before raising his fist and thrusting it toward Jace. Jace raised his own hand and caught the man's fist just before it stuck him. His entire body vibrated with a strange power. Wrapping his fingers around the man's fist, he squeezed lightly hearing a distinct crack come from the man's hand.

The man roared and fell to his knees. Jace kept his grasp on his hand and raised his eyes to the other man, Mark, he assumed. "You want to be next?" Jace wrenched the guy's arm back eliciting another howl.

Mark shook his head violently and released Clary, backing away slowly. Jace freed greasy guy's fist and reached out to take Clary's hand. She grasped it and stepped over the weeping man.

Jace glanced down at him and tisked. "Now, you should know better than to mess with another guy's girl. Maybe next time you'll remember." He wrapped his arm around Clary's waist and walked away, leaving the man sprawled out across the hall.

As soon as they rounded the corner, Jace grasped Clary by the shoulders and turned her to face him. "Are you all right?"

She nodded, her face pale and eyes wide. "What was that?"

"What was what?"

"That." She pointed back to the hall. "What you did back there."

Jace glanced over his shoulder. "Oh, uh, super strength I guess?" He grimaced. "Side effect of the serum?"

Clary shook her head slowly. "That was—scary."

"I'm sorry." He pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her. "But hey, at least I controlled it that time. That's something, right?"

Clary pulled back and stared into his eyes. "Are you sure you're okay? He didn't actually hit you did he?"

"Hell no he didn't hit me." Jace laughed but stopped instantly when he took in Clary's scared expression. "Why?"

"Because you're bleeding."

It was then that Jace felt the warm trickle. He raised his hand to his nose and wiped it across the top. She wasn't kidding, a smear of blood covered the back of his palm as more dripped out, ran down his hand and fell to the floor below.

* * *

**Okie dokie then. Hope you enjoyed reading that as much as I enjoyed writing it…hmm, what is going on with poor Jace now? I dunno, but you better stay tuned and leave me lot's of reviews if you want to know…;)**


	28. Chapter 28

**Sorry for the delay on this! I had a hard time writing this chapter because I had a hard time finding good songs to write to! Blah! I hate that. So, if you want to help, you can PM me any songs you think would be helpful! I am always looking for songs to add to my list! You can see my taste through the ones I've already posted here. I need some good Jace songs which tend to be angsty, angry, and self-loathing. But more than that I need some Clary songs. I'm not exactly sure what I'm looking for for her so whatever you think might work?**

**Anyway…here goes…**

**Chapter Song:**

**_Say (All I Need)_ by OneRepublic (Scene 1--Clary)  
**

_**First of Me**_** by Hoobastank (Scene 2—Jace) –This song rocks!**

**Lyrics (First of Me):**  
_I hear a voice inside  
It's grown into a scream  
I'm not the next of them  
I am the first of me  
'cause I can't live the lie  
I am just what you see  
I'm not the next of them  
I am the first of me_

* * *

When the first crimson drop fell, Clary was certain that greasy haired guy's strike had connected. But Jace insisted it hadn't, and when that drop turned into a trickle and then a stream, her worry turned to downright panic. She flew over to the counter, grabbed one of the white bar cloths folded near the edge, and rushed back, holding it up to Jace with a shaking hand.

"Calm down, Clary. It's just a bloody nose. I've had worse." Jace swatted her hand away and pressed the cloth to his nose, tipping his head back.

"But it's just so much. Are you positive he didn't hit you?"

Jace rolled his eyes. "Of course I'm sure. I think I'd remember if some guy's fist impacted my face." His voice came out muffled and nasally.

"Well, if he didn't hit you then why are you bleeding?"

Jace shrugged. "I don't know, maybe my blood decided it was finally sick of being screwed with and staged a revolt."

Clary scowled. "Don't be an ass."

Jace snorted into the cloth. "Sorry, I couldn't resist. But you have to admit, my blood's been messed with a lot more than most. I'm surprised I haven't morphed into something disgusting and hideous yet."

"That's not funny, Jace."

He lowered his head and looked at her, his eyes gleaming with amusement for the first time in a long time. "It kinda is."

Clary bit her lower lip, trying her hardest to hold back a grin not wanting to encourage his joking. She failed. "Okay fine, it is, but can we be serious for just a minute."

Jace sighed and rolled his eyes again. "I probably just got over excited." He shrugged. "It happens."

"Has it happened to you before?"

"Uh, no. But there's a first time for everything."

Clary stepped closer to him and reached up to check under the cloth. It looked as if the bleeding had stopped. She took it from his hands and wiped the remnants from his face as carefully as she could. "Jace, this isn't right and you know it. Why do you keep trying to blow it off as nothing?"

Jace sighed and took the cloth back from her, trying to wipe the blood off his hands. "Because maybe I'm just a little tired of there always being something wrong with me. Something always going bad. Maybe this _is_ just a simple nosebleed."

"But what if it's not?" Clary's voice came out a whisper.

"What if it is?"

"Gah!" Clary threw her hands up in the air. "Why do you have to be so stubborn?"

"Why do you?"

"Quit answering all my questions with questions."

"Does that bother you?" He smirked.

"Jace, so help me—"

"Hey, there you are—whoa—" Simon strolled up to them, Isabelle at his side. "Who's bleeding?"

Clary cringed, knowing what was coming next. She glanced back at Jace.

He stood absolutely still, the bloody cloth clutched in his stained hand and his eyes focused incredulously on Simon. "That would be me, genius. You know, the one covered in the stuff. You really are the most pathetic vampire ever."

"How am I supposed to know it's not someone else's? You don't look hurt." Simon studied Jace carefully, his nostrils flaring and creases forming in his forehead. Clary wasn't even a vampire and she could smell the coppery tinge in the air. She couldn't imagine the torture it must be for Simon.

"It was a bloody nose." Jace shrugged. "No big deal."

Simon laughed. "Finally! Someone belted you one. I wish I'd have seen it. What'd you do? Mouth off like usual?"

Clary narrowed her eyes and spoke before Jace had a chance. "No. No one hit him." She moved her gaze back to Jace. "He just started bleeding."

Jace's eyes glazed over, almost as if he were warning her in some way. "I told you, I'm fine, Clary."

She lifted her chin in defiance. "And I'm telling you, something feels wrong about this. You shouldn't just start bleeding for no reason at all."

Jace's jaw clenched and he glared at her. Throwing his hands in the air, he turned his back and stalked toward the alley exit.

"Where are you going?" Clary started forward.

He thrust his hand up, not turning to face her. "I need some air." When he reached the door, he shoved it open, letting it slam shut behind him.

Clary sighed and continued toward the door until she felt a hand on her shoulder. She stopped and peered behind her.

"Why don't you let me go," Simon said, a strange streak in his eyes.

"You? You guys hate each other."

Simon hesitated before meeting her eyes. "Just let me go, okay?"

Clary studied him suspiciously before shaking her head and holding her hands up in surrender. "Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you. It's your funeral."

Simon grinned shortly and started toward the back exit, his head down and hands thrust in his pockets.

Isabelle stepped up beside Clary. "Yeah, that's not good."

"No, it's not." Clary shook her head. "It's not good at all."

***

A bite of cold washed over Jace as the door slammed shut behind him. In the distance, a roll of thunder echoed through the night sky and the moist scent of rain wafted on the soft breeze swirling through the alley. Bending over and placing his hands on his knees, he gulped in the cool air, trying to force down the swelling wrongness inside him. He felt it, whatever it was, festering inside, threatening to overcome even his strongest barriers. His legs trembled under the immense pressure.

A deep ache gathered in his stomach, forcing him to his knees. He pounded his fist on the ground, praying Clary didn't decide to follow him and that their bond didn't choose that moment to reveal his distress. Doubling over, he placed his forehead to the dust covered alley floor and clutched his stomach with a moan. His mouth became unbearably dry as his throat constricted and his chest clenched causing his body to convulse. Dry hacking coughs consumed him, racking up from deep inside painfully squeezing his chest even more. A metallic taste filled his mouth and he spat onto the ground, turning the gray grime a deep red.

Somehow, through his agony, he heard the club door creek open and then close with a click. Footsteps shuffled up behind him and two strong hands pulled against him.

Jace shrugged them off as another coughing fit took him. His throat felt raw and his chest ached like he'd been struck with a sledgehammer. Chancing a glance up, he groaned when he saw Simon's pale face staring down at him. "What do you want?" His voice came out rough.

Simon knelt down beside him. "I didn't figure you wanted Clary to see this, but that you might need some help."

Jace shoved Simon away just as another pang gripped his stomach. He squeezed his eyes shut and curled in on himself once more. "I don't need your help."

"Funny. It doesn't look that way to me. Why don't you stop being such a self-righteous jerk and let me help you."

"How are you supposed to help? You don't know any better than I do what this is." Jace rasped.

"Maybe I know more than you think." Simon reached into his jacket and pulled out a flask, offering it to Jace.

Jace peered over at him. "What the hell is that?"

"Something that will help you."

Jace scoffed. "Whatever Simon. Go back to Clary and rat me out, you know that's what you're going to do anyway." He groaned as he stomach tightened in a knot.

Simon let out an exasperated breath. "Look, I know we don't really like each other. That's a given. But we both care about Clary and if you're hurt so is she. So just stop being such an ass and take it." He thrust the flask in Jace's face.

As the pain increased, Jace knew he didn't have much of a choice left, and as high of a pain tolerance he usually had, he couldn't take much more of this. He wrapped his fingers around the silver container, opened it and guzzled down the smooth liquid. It flowed down his throat, coating the sides and warming him as it slid down and pooled in his stomach. When it hit, the pain immediately began to dissipate. The tightness in his chest loosened and the knot in his gut unraveled.

He handed the flask back to Simon with a shaking hand and wiped his other across his mouth. When he pulled it away, he noticed the smear of red stretching from his thumb to his pointer finger. He glanced up at Simon. "Please tell me that wasn't what I think it was."

Simon shrugged. "What else would I be carrying around with me?"

Jace groaned and fought back the urge to gag.

"What? It helped didn't it?"

Jace glared at Simon. "How did you know?"

Simon glanced at the door to the club and then back at Jace. "When Stephen had me, I heard him talking to one of his freaks about some 'side effects' some of them experienced. They talked about something similar to this—although it was, well, worse."

"Worse? How?"

"Well, some of them basically bled to death."

Jace raised his brows.

"Look, it's not really all that common, but Raphael told me of some that just didn't take well to the change. Their body basically resisted it and tried to purge itself of the virus by ridding itself of the tainted blood. He said the only way to treat it was to consume blood to replace what they'd lost. Most don't think about drinking blood until the change is in full affect—pretty much after they've risen. Apparently, Stephen didn't know this either and some of his subjects died because of it. I figure, maybe because of how you're, well—different—that maybe your body is fighting it off."

Jace rolled his eyes. "Figures."

Simon stood and shoved his hands back in his pockets, shuffling from foot to foot.

"What?" Jace demanded, allowing every bit of annoyance he felt to seep into the word.

Simon stopped moving and met Jace's gaze. "You really should tell her."

"Relationship advice? From you?" Jace laughed. "That's classic."

"No, it's not advice on your relationship. I don't even want to _think_ about any relations you might have."

Jace snorted.

Simon closed his eyes briefly before opening them again. "She deserves your complete honesty. For reasons I can't even begin to understand, she loves you. If I had my way, she wouldn't but, well, it isn't my choice to make. You owe it to her, and you know it."

Jace rolled his eyes. "Don't worry bloodsucker, I'll tell her once I know more. Who knows, maybe this was a fluke, maybe it won't happen again."

Simon studied him. "I doubt that. If you need blood already, chances are you'll need more. What happens if she catches you drinking it? You don't think that'll freak her out a little?"

Jace stood and wiped the dust from his clothing. "Why don't you worry about your own girlfriend and let me worry about mine, all right?"

Simon raised his hands in surrender. "Fine. But when she freaks out on you don't act like I didn't warn you."

Jace turned, about ready to let loose another retort when the club door opened once more. Clary's concerned face peered out, and then a look of relief crossed her features when she realized he was all right. Trying to act nonchalant, Jace swiped at the blood stains in the grime, displacing the dust enough to obscure the proof of anything happening in the alley. Her eyes moved from Jace to Simon and back again.

Cautiously, she walked up to Jace, raised her palm to his chest and met his eye. "Is—is everything okay?" Her stare bore into him.

He swallowed against the fear climbing into his throat and nodded. "Sure." He raised a hand and rubbed his hair then leaned down to plant a kiss on her cheek. "Look," he whispered. "I'm sorry about in there. I was being a jerk. But, I'm okay."

A flash of lightning lit the night sky, followed by another peel of thunder. He stared down at her penetrating eyes, begging for her to believe him. After all, he was fine—now. Maybe it was a one time occurrence. With the rune and the special situation with his blood, none of them knew how his body would react to the serum. Maybe this was how it dealt with ridding his body of everything. Maybe he would be fine after this. No more super speed or strength. No more anything. He could only hope.

Clary's brow creased infinitesimally, before she leaned forward, placed her head against him and wrapped her arms around his waist. His heart hammered in his chest, aching to be honest but not wanting to scare her for no reason. Until he knew for sure, he just didn't see the point of worrying her. He pulled her tight against him and brushed his lips against her head, raising his eyes to meet Simon's.

Simon shook his head minutely, rolled his eyes, and tucked his arm around Isabelle's waist.

A small smirk played on Jace's lips. The vampire wouldn't tell. But he couldn't be sure he'd keep his trap shut for long. Jace had to work fast. He had to figure out exactly what was going on and how to stop it. There was no way he wanted to be blood dependant for the rest of his life. Not only that, but what other side effects would he experience? Would he start sprouting hair in weird places with the full moon? He suppressed a shudder at the thought, he was rather fond of his smooth chest. Would his skin turn from its present golden tone to blue or green, or worse yet, become transparent and show off all his internal organs? Would he suddenly acquire an odd desire to dress in sequins, feathers, and leather? God, he hoped not.

He glanced down at the fiery red-head snuggled into his side. "You ready to go?"

She met his gaze and nodded her head.

Simon and Isabelle had already started down the alley, laughing and touching each other in very suggestive ways. Jace fought back another gag and forced his eyes away.

Just as the first sprinkles of rain descended from the sky, Clary spoke in a quiet yet stern voice. "I know you're keeping something from me, Jace. I can feel it."

Jace stayed silent. He didn't know what to say. He didn't want to tell her about the episode in the alley or the blood drinking. Not yet at least.

She stopped and stepped in front of him, taking his face in her hands. Her eyes narrowing as she studied his face. "You are a very stubborn man, Jace Lightwood. But don't forget. Two can play at that game." With that, she spun around and strolled up the alley away from him.

Even though he knew she was serious and she had meant it as a threat, he couldn't help smiling to himself. She had no idea how cute she was when she tried to take control, tried to intimidate him. In a sick way, he liked it. Liked that strength and determination. As he watched her blazing tangles flutter behind her he made a promise to himself. After he figured out for sure what was going on, he would tell her everything. She would be angry with him for keeping it from her, no doubt. But he'd risk her wrath to know more first, and he thought he knew where to start.

There was one person he thought might be able to shed a little bit of light on what might be going on inside him. Someone who had been known to work a few magical miracles here and there. He quickened his stride to meet up with the others. The faster he got them home, the faster he could do what he had to do. First, he needed to speak with Alec, and then it was about time he paid a visit to a certain sequin laden warlock.

* * *

**It may take me a little bit of time to write the next chapter because I'm not real confident of my ability to write Magnus, but by golly I'm gonna try! :D Reviews are almost as good as Jace's underwear and may earn you more peeks…:P**


	29. Chapter 29

**Wow. This ended up really long, it just kept going on and on and on…sorry! Okay, I did my best with Magnus *gulp*. I hope he's okay! To me, he always seemed kind of aloof and…nonchalant, so that's what I tried to portray. I don't know if that's how you perceived him in the books but that's how I did so…**

**Chapter Songs:**

_**So What**_** by Pink (Scene 1--Magnus) – I don't know why, but this attitude seemed to fit Magnus for me, LOL!**

_**Secret's in the Telling**_** by Dashboard Confessional (Scene 2--Clary)**

_**When I'm Gone**_** by 3 Doors Down (Scene 3--Jace)**

* * *

Magnus stared down at the array of nail polish scattered on top of the small oak table he'd just "borrowed" from the antique furniture store a few blocks over, trying to decide which color to use. He thought he had it narrowed down between Nearly Navy Sparkle and Gold Dust. With a shrug, he flicked his fingers and all the other bottles vanished leaving only the blue and gold. Who said he couldn't use both colors?

Picking up the bottle of gold, he shook it quickly, twisted the cap and applied a thick layer to his thumb nail. He held the nail up in front of him to inspect the evenness of the color.

"Excellent." He smiled.

When he was almost done with the first hand, he heard a knock on the door. He glanced up in surprise, not expecting anyone at this late hour. Placing the cap back on the Nearly Navy Sparkle, he stood and made his way to the door, blowing on his fingers in the process. He grasped the doorknob with his unpainted hand, opening it a crack. Familiar black hair and piercing blue eyes peered in through the slit. Magnus's lips stretched into a large grin.

"My, my. Decided to stay over after all?" He quirked one eyebrow and opened the door wider, glimpsing another figure leaning against the wall behind Alec. His pleasure immediately plummeted. "Oh, I see." He pushed the door open all the way, twirled his hand in the air in a gesture to enter and turned around making his way back to the table. Settling back down in his chair, he grabbed the blue nail polish again and continued painting. "What do I owe the displeasure of your visit, Jace Lightwood?"

Alec and Jace sauntered into the room, Alec moving to sit in the chair closest to Magnus and Jace choosing one on the opposite side of the table.

"Oh come on Magnus, there's no need to veil your excitement at seeing me with forced cynicism. Really, I thought you were better than that. A true brother in sarcastic wit." Jace plopped down on the chair, placing one of his booted feet against the edge of the table top and crossing his arms over his chest, a self satisfied grin on his face.

Magnus couldn't fight back the small smirk that pulled at the corners of his lips. He really did enjoy Jace's appreciation for all things blatantly obvious and ridiculous. In that way, they were alike. But, of course he couldn't let him know that. "Yes, well, as much as I do take pleasure in our ironic banter, I am a bit busy tonight." He held his completed polish job in the air.

"Magnus," Alec's blue eyes implored him. "You know we wouldn't bother you if it wasn't important."

Magnus finished with his polish and waved his hand over the table, the bottles disappearing. "Yes, well, of course you wouldn't. Why you would want to visit me just because is an enigma isn't it?" He focused his eyes on Alec's as he raised his fingers to his lips, blowing the wet paint dry.

"Come on, you know that's not what I meant—" Alec reached out for Magnus's hand.

Magnus snatched his hand away and lifted it to twist a dark spike of hair.

Jace raised his brows as his gaze shifted between Alec and Magnus. "Do you two need a minute?"

Alec bowed his head and sighed as Magnus said. "No. What is it you two need from me now? Because, as you know, there is nothing I like more in this world than to do favors for the likes of you."

Alec glanced up, his eyes strained. Magnus knew Alec hated when he shut down like this, but he was tired of Alec playing it cool in front of everyone. It wasn't like they didn't know all about their relationship. But ever since their return from Idris, he seemed afraid to act any different in front of his family. Always just a little withdrawn, always just a little scared. Magnus had asked him multiple times to stay over, he always declined, and he never showed up unannounced or invited him to the Institute unless someone was in need of his services. It was always Magnus who had to make the first move and he was tiring of it quickly.

All he'd asked was that Alec be honest about them, to himself and everyone else. He realized this was new for Alec and that he'd never acted on his feelings before, but everyone else seemed to accept it. Why couldn't he? Even Jace, the most cynical of them all, supported them. But even still, Alec shied away from public displays, from committing himself in a more substantial way.

Jace lowered his foot from the table and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "I was wondering how much you learned while being held by Stephen. You know, about any . . . side effects that may have occurred in previous experiments."

Magnus quirked one brown and absently twisted the ring around his middle finger. "Having issues?"

Jace shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. I guess if you'd call spontaneously erupting nosebleeds and hacking up blood issues, then yeah, I suppose I am."

He raised his hand and rubbed his chin. "Hmm, interesting. Anything else?"

"Well, you could say wearing a giant S on my chest would be appropriate at this point—but without the skin tight costume."

"Do you have a problem with spandex? It's actually quite comfortable." Magnus cocked his head to the side and studied Jace. "I think you could pull it off."

Alec cleared his throat, breaking through Magnus's ponderings.

"So, you're saying you're displaying vampiric tendencies? Any of the others?"

Jace shrugged. "I don't know. I don't seem to be sprouting whiskers or finding myself unable to lie. Thank God."

Magnus nodded his head and moved to stand between Jace and Alec. Holding his hands out to Jace he asked, "Do you mind?"

"Why would I mind? I came to you, remember?"

"And interrupted my beauty routine, yes, I remember." He placed his hands on either side of Jace's head, not touching him directly. "Don't move." Concentrating on Jace's energies, a dull green light engulfed his hands. He closed his eyes and furrowed he brows as the sensations flowed into him. Rage of immeasurable quantity followed by extreme strength, speed and pain registered the highest. Just below that, the ability to charm and enchant welled to the surface. And at the very bottom, knowledge of the magical realm swirled about.

He opened his eyes and stepped back, pursing his lips in thought.

"What?" Alec leaned toward him. "What is it?"

Magnus ignored Alec and continued to study Jace. "You are a very angry little boy aren't you?"

Jace's mouth fell open in surprise. Magnus assumed this wasn't the information Jace thought he would get from him.

Magnus made his way back to his chair and lowered himself into it, resting his elbows on the table and raising one hand to tap a finger on his red lips. "It's fascinating, really. I had always sensed that part of you—the one filled with anger—and who could blame you taking all things into consideration, but with the addition of these new . . . abilities, the rage is astounding. Though not surprising."

"Why not surprising?" Jace asked.

"Well, it's a well known fact that we Downworlders are not really known for our patience." Magnus grinned. "We tend to . . . snap quite easily. Combine that with your already low ability to control yourself, well, you're pretty much a bomb waiting to go off."

"So," Alec said, "you're saying he could just—go off on someone at anytime?"

Magnus shrugged. "I couldn't tell you. All I know is that his anger was the strongest thing I felt. It could mean that or it couldn't. What is most interesting to me is that the vampiric tendencies are the strongest after that."

"Why do you think that is?" Alec asked.

"My assumption is because the blood given to him came from the Daylighter—who, as we all know, received his day walking abilities from drinking from Jace. I assume the abilities are amplified in him because a piece of himself already lived in the blood—of course that's just a guess."

"You're not telling me I'm going to turn into a bloodsucker are you?" Jace slouched back into the chair. "Great, just great. Sucking blood for all of eternity, just what I always wanted."

Magnus twisted his ring once more. "Not necessarily. Another strange thing is that the viruses are not bonding to your blood. They're free floating, fighting against your immunities and trying to latch themselves on. This could explain your body's attempts to expel the tainted blood."

"So why did drinking blood help?"

Alec whipped his head to Jace, his eyes wide with shock. Magnus assumed Jace hadn't mentioned that little fact to him before coming over.

"Temporary fix. Appeasing your vampiric side I suppose—but don't be fooled into thinking it will help forever."

Alec turned back to Magnus. "So, you're saying there's no stopping this? That he could—well, that he could keep hemorrhaging like that?"

Magnus shrugged. "It seems likely. For a short time he could stave it off by replenishing the lost blood, but it won't stop it forever."

Alec lowered his face to his hands. "So what do we do now?" His voice came out muffled.

"Might I suggest," Magnus met Jace's eyes, "asking the one person who may have the answers you seek. The one behind it all."

Alec's head snapped up and Jace's eyes narrowed. "Stephen," he said, his voice flat.

Magnus nodded. "He's your best shot." He sighed and stood. "Time to visit Daddy."

***

Clary sprang up in bed, her breathing ragged and her skin soaked with sweat. She glanced around the dark room and then closed her eyes, taking in slow breaths trying to calm her racing heart.

The images assaulted her mind, an unrelenting flow of blood and horror. The dream had started as just a replay of the scene at Pandemonium. The spark of deadly rage that passed through Jace's eyes as he dominated greasy haired guy in the back hallway, the blood that trickled from his nose after no one even touched him, and then the way he'd turned his back on her and stormed off into the alley. Then her vision shifted to him in the alley, doubled up in agony as he coughed up blood, spitting it onto the ground. She wanted to go to him, but her feet were stuck in place, held there by a force outside her control.

When Jace finally stood, he turned to her, his eyes flat and dead as they had been the morning he'd broke down in front of her. Suddenly, drops of blood oozed from his eyes, nose and ears. The trickles turned to a steady flow, his body emptying itself of all life. It poured out in rivers, coating his skin in red fluid. She screamed and reached forward, wanting to staunch the flow, but when she touched him, his body cracked like glass. The fracture spread in small fissures, moving over his entire body. He glanced down and then back up to her, his eyes wide and pained, almost as if he was asking her why. She tried to touch him again, only to feel him crumble under her fingers, his body reduced to ash tumbling to the ground. Dropping to the dust covered floor, she flung her body over the pile of dust, tears soaking her face as she tried to keep him from blowing away in the wind that swept through the alley way. But no matter how firmly she planted herself on top of what remained of him, he still filtered through her fingers, disappearing into the night.

Although she knew it was just a dream and she was awake now, she could not stop the flow of tears and sobs as they raked through her body. All she wanted was to keep him safe. She'd do anything to protect him. But she couldn't do a thing if he wouldn't open up to her. She knew he was hiding something, she felt it in every fiber of her being. Why couldn't he trust her? What was it that kept him from being completely honest? Hadn't she made it clear that nothing he could say would change how she felt about him? She'd tried so hard to convey that, to let him know that she would be there no matter what.

Flinging the sheets off from her and swinging her legs off the bed, she grabbed the yoga pants lying on the floor and slipped them on. She needed to see him, needed to make sure he was okay and find out once and for all what he was keeping from her.

She exited her room and bounded down the hall until she stood in front of his door. For a moment, she contemplated knocking, but decided against it and flung the door open. His bed lay empty, and very obviously not slept in. Her mouth dropped open and she spun around, determined to check every room until she found him.

After combing the Institute and coming up empty, she found herself in front of Isabelle's door. Maybe she'd know where he was. She raised her fist and knocked loudly. It took several poundings before Isabelle opened the door, her eyes drooped and hair tousled with sleep.

"What the hell, Clary? Do you know what time it is?"

"Do you know where Jace is?"

"What?" Isabelle yawned. "Why would I know where he is? He's your boyfriend, remember?"

Clary bounced on the balls of her feet, her anxiety growing in the wake of her dream. "I checked everywhere I could think of but he's nowhere."

"Did you check with Alec? I saw them leave together earlier."

Clary stilled. "What? He—he left with Alec? When?"

Isabelle shrugged and yawned again. "I don't know. Just after you went to bed I guess."

Clary took in a deep breath, the anger in her chest building. He waited for her to fall asleep, before going out. As much as she didn't want to believe it, he'd done it on purpose. He'd confided whatever it was in Alec and not her. He trusted him, not her. She knew it. Somehow, deep inside, she knew it.

Tears stung her eyes, but she held them back. "If you see him, could you tell him I'm in the greenhouse." She took a deep breath and spoke through clenched teeth. "Please."

Isabelle's eyes widened and her lips formed the shape of an O. "Sure."

"Thanks." Clary spun on her heel and headed in the direction of the roof stairs. She needed to decompress, to calm herself before Jace returned, and then she'd ask him why he continued to shut her out. Why he didn't feel her worthy enough to share whatever was going on. Sooner or later, he'd crack and he'd tell her everything. And she was determined for tonight to be that night.

***

The backdrop of the Institute finally came into view, looming large and dark against the bright city lights. Jace needed to think, to figure out how he could possibly face Stephen again. He knew he needed the information he held, but didn't know if he was strong enough to face him again. At least not yet.

They entered the gates and made their way to the elevator. Alec had been quiet all the way home. Jace saw the tension between him and Magnus and while he wondered what was up, he didn't ask. He figured if Alec wanted him to know he'd tell him. He knew as well as anyone that relationship stuff was private and it just wasn't cool to stick your nose where it didn't belong.

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open to a very disheveled Isabelle. Jace quirked an eyebrow and readied a sarcastic remark about her unkempt appearance.

"Save it, Jace." Isabelle crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot. "What did you do to Clary?"

"What are you talking about?" He stepped out of the elevator. "How could I do anything when I wasn't here, not to mention it's the middle of the night."

"Well, she was pretty upset when I saw her earlier. She was looking for you."

Jace swallowed against the foreboding feeling gathering in his throat. "When?"

Isabelle narrowed her eyes. "About an hour ago. She said to tell you she was in the greenhouse."

Jace cursed under his breath and glanced down the hall toward the roof stairs near the end of the hall.

"What the hell's going on Jace?" Isabelle asked.

"Nothing," he mumbled. "I'll see you later." He turned and walked toward the stairs. Although he didn't know exactly what was up, he could guess. She wanted to know what he was hiding from her. How could he tell her? How could he explain when he really didn't know? More than anything, he didn't want to worry her needlessly. He knew how she was and she'd obsess over every little thing. As long as he kept the symptoms at bay, at least until he could figure out how to stop it for good, there was no reason to burden her with the whole ugly truth. He just couldn't stand seeing her upset and he knew no matter what he did, she would be. He just figured that her thinking he was keeping something from her would be a better upset for her than thinking he might spontaneously combust at any moment.

He made his way up the stairs and stepped into the greenhouse. A dim light shone from near the back and he moved toward it. Within moments, she came into view, sitting in front of the midnight blooming bush, the remnants of blossoms scattered around her legs. She rolled one between her fingers, her face illuminated by the soft glow of a candle beside her. The sadness on her face caused his breath to hitch, knowing he was the cause.

She glanced up as he moved closer to her a look of joy, followed immediately by something else, flashed over her face. Lowering her gaze back to the petal in her hand, she refused to meet his eye.

When he reached her, he crouched down next to her. "Hey."

"Hey," she answered, still not looking at him.

He let out a slow breath and reached for her hands which were meticulously shredding the petal between her fingers. "Clary—"

"Why don't you trust me, Jace ?" she asked, her eyes still cast down.

"What?" He nearly fell back on his unsteady feet. "I do."

Finally, she lifted her gaze and met his. Her eyes gleamed with unshed tears, causing his heart to plummet into his stomach. "Then why do you keep leaving me in the dark? Why do you keep hiding things from me?" The tears broke free and tumbled down her cheeks.

He reached up and cupped her face, swiping the tears away with his thumbs. "What do you think I'm hiding?"

She sniffed. "I know there's more going on than you're telling me and I know other people know. Alec at least. How come you can tell him and not me?"

"You don't tell Isabelle things you don't tell me?"

She furrowed her brows. "That's different."

"How so?"

"I don't tell her things that I should be telling you. Things that would concern you or make you upset. Things that scare me or might scare you. Those things I tell you, because you're the one person in this world I can trust with anything and everything. Why aren't I that person for you, Jace?"

"You are."

"Then tell me what's going on."

He closed his eyes and lowered his face. "Clary—"

She grabbed his face and forced him to meet her eyes. "Why won't you tell me? What's wrong with you?"

He pushed her hands away and stood, walking to the window nearby. "I'm fine. How many times do I have to tell you that?"

He heard her stand behind him. "No you're not. I dreamt about tonight. About what happened at the club—"

He spun toward her. "Damnit Clary, it was just a damn bloody nose. Why do you have to make such a big deal out of nothing?"

She narrowed her eyes and took a step closer to him. "And what about after, in the alley?"

His mouth dropped open and he staggered back. How did she know about that? She couldn't. The only ones who knew were Simon and now Alec, and he was pretty sure neither of them told her. When he regained his composure, he closed his mouth and tightened his jaw. "I don't know what you're talking about."

She closed her eyes and spoke through clenched teeth. "Stop lying to me."

"Look at me, Clary." When she refused to open her eyes, he took a few more steps toward her and wrapped his hands around her arms, shaking her gently. "Look at me. I'm fine."

She opened her eyes and glared at him. "You're not going to tell me are you?"

He stared at her, unwilling to admit anything yet. "There's nothing to tell. I'm. Fine." He stressed the last two words.

"Fine!" she yelled and thrust her arms down hard, breaking herself free of his grasp and twirled around.

"Clary—" He reached forward and caught one of her arms in his firm grip, not wanting to leave things this way.

Without warning, she whipped back around and slapped him across the face. The sting shot across his cheek as a surprised gasp escaped from his lips. He raised a hand to his face, laying his fingers against the hot, throbbing skin. Pent up rage spread through his chest, forcing its way up and begging for release. He closed his eyes trying to push it back down but only succeeding in angering it further.

Clary stood before him, her eyes wide and her hand to her mouth, almost as if she couldn't believe what she'd done. "Jace," her voice wavered, "I'm—"

He wanted to tell her it was all right, that he forgave her, that he deserved it even. But he couldn't speak, not a single sound. It took everything he had to hold the rage inside. He needed to leave, to get as far away from her as possible before he lost control of it.

Pushing past her, he made his way out of the greenhouse and to the stairs. He gripped the rail, the metal crumbling under his fingers. His body shook with unrelenting waves of power fueled by his anger.

Clary rushed out of the greenhouse. "Jace. I—I didn't mean—I'm sor—"

He raised a trembling hand out to stop her. "Stay away! I'm—I can't control it." Fumbling away from the staircase, he leaned into the brick wall, the pressure building to an unstoppable level. He knew he was about to burst and just wanted her to go so she didn't have to see. "Please, Clary. Go." he moaned, pressing his forehead against the rough brick and squeezing his eyes shut.

"No." Came her reply from just behind him.

"Go!" he yelled, his voice cracking as he lifted his fist and smashed it into the wall. Bricks crumbled under his hand, leaving a large hole and cracks in the building's façade. "Please. I don't want you to see."

"I'm not leaving you, Jace."

He moaned against the wall, the rage just about to erupt, his body shaking with restraint. He curled his fingers, scraping against the wall, crushing the bricks into dust under his hand. He wanted to scream at her to leave, to cry for her to stay, needing her to hold him in her arms and chase these demons away. But he couldn't ask for that, he couldn't risk hurting her. "Please," he whispered, no longer able to speak aloud.

"No," her whispered voice traveled over him, increasing the longing he felt.

His breathing accelerated as he fought to hold back the insanity raging inside him. Just when he thought he couldn't hold back anymore, that it was going to break through his failing restraint, he felt a soft touch on his shoulder. His eyes flew open as he readied himself to pull away, when a strange thing happened. From that point out, a warmth spread through him, overshadowing the aching need to explode. Calm overtook him, weakening his legs and dropping him to the ground. He let out a shuttering breath as her presence swallowed up every bit of uncontrolled anger inside of him.

Before he knew it, her arms were around him, her lips on his face, kissing away the tears he didn't even know he'd shed.

"I'm sorry," she whispered in between kisses. "I'm so sorry."

Finally, he was able to move again and he raised his hands to her face. "No, I'm sorry. I don't know what I'm doing Clary."

She pressed her forehead against his. "I just want to help you."

"You are."

"You know what I mean. Let me in. Please."

He let out a slow breath. "I will. I promise I will. Just—please just trust me."

"Jace." Her shoulders slumped. "Why? Why not now?"

"Because—because I need your strength. Right now you're stronger than me and I need you to stay that way."

She raised her tear-filled eyes to his. "And you think if you tell me everything then I might not be strong enough?"

"I don't know. I just—I want to know what's going on before I scare you for no reason. Please, just let me figure stuff out first."

Her breath hitched. "Is it really that bad?"

He closed his eyes and touched his forehead to hers once more. "Clary," he begged in a whisper.

"Okay." She ran her fingers through his hair. "Okay. I'll try."

"Thank you."

She moved her hands to his cheeks and lifted his face then lowered her lips to his. "I love you," she whispered against his mouth. "No matter what, I love you."

He closed his eyes and pulled her closer, longing for her touch and the calm her presence seemed to grant in him. Somehow, he would figure all this out, he would make things okay again. He would conquer these demons. Even if it meant opening himself up further than he ever had before. Even if it meant facing his father once again.

* * *

**Phew, all right. Poor Jace. I think I need to go cry for a while now. *Sniff*. Reviews make me and Jace happy so please, soothe us both with your words…*smooches***


	30. Chapter 30

**First of all, I want to thank you all for your amazing words! You'll never know how much they mean to me and how they make me want to just write, write write! I love them so please, keep them coming!**

**This chapter is much shorter than the last and I actually just planned on it being one scene to a longer chapter, but when I finished it, I decided that it just needed to be its own chapter. It's one of those chapters that just . . . touched me, and it needed its own spotlight—in my mind anyway. It's fluff. Oh, magnificent, glorious fluff. It makes my heart melt into a soupy puddle. We all know Jace has it in him to be romantic, but…well…you'll just have to read and see. :P So, yeah, here it is!**

**Chapter song:**

_**Everything**_** by Rob Blackledge – Now, I know you're going to want to listen to this song after you read this—no not want, NEED to listen to it. Unfortunately, it's a new song and not available on playlist where I put all the story songs. *cry*. But, I have provided a link in my profile where I *think* you can hear it once for free. I bought it from iTunes so I have it to enjoy over and over and over again. Haha! But, if worse comes to worse, you can at least hear a snippet on there—but after you read this that won't be enough…I guarantee it. :D**

****The lyrics to this song are integral so I have included some of them in italics below.****

* * *

Clary tapped her pencil on the thick pages of the book in front of her. Maryse had assigned her a ton of reading for training that week and she'd totally slacked with everything going on. Rubbing her temples with her pointer and middle fingers, she tried to focus on the words on the page. After reading the same passage six times, she jumped up and crossed the room to her dresser where her iPod dock was located. She jabbed the power button, scrolled to her favorite playlist and hit play. The sound of her favorite songs soon permeated the room. She sighed in relief and strolled back over to the desk, plopping down once more.

"I thought you were supposed to be studying," Jace said from his spot on her bed.

She sighed and glanced over at him. He lay partially propped up on her pillows, one arm behind his head and a book in his lap, his eyes not moving from the section he was reading as he spoke, and his long fingers tracing the edges of the page. The sun shined through the open curtains, illuminating the golden strands of his hair, making them shine in a gloriously unearthly way. It so wasn't fair how beautiful he was. Even dressed in a simple pair of jeans and white t-shirt, he was still more stunning than any other human being on the face of the earth.

"Sometimes it helps me concentrate with music playing," she said, trying her hardest to tear her stare away from him.

He turned toward her, a skeptical look on his face, his golden eyes captivating her even further. "Isn't that sort of counterproductive to concentrating?"

She shrugged. "Not for me." And with great effort, turned back to the monstrous assignment in front of her. Placing her forehead in her hand, she bit her lip as she absorbed the words on the page. After several minutes, the soft melodic sounds of one of her most favorite songs drifted from the radio. She lifted her head, closed her eyes and sighed.

"What?" Jace asked.

"Nothing. I just love this song."

_Standing, here in this moment_

_ Watching, tomorrow unfolding_

_ So quietly, it captures me_

_ And takes me back to an innocence, I barely remember_

She heard the bed springs creak as he climbed off and moved toward her. Opening her eyes, she found him standing before her, his hand outstretched. She raised her brows in question.

He grinned. "Thought you could use a break."

She smiled back and slipped her hand into his. He pulled her up gently and wrapped his other arm around her waist, resting his hand at the small of her back. She stepped closer, raising one arm around his neck, placing their clasped hands against him and fitting her body close to his. Closing her eyes once more, she laid her head against his chest, allowing the music and sound of his beating heart to fill her completely.

_A hopefulness, A first time together_

_ I'm trembling, I'm holding in_

_ But you reach right to me, you see straight through me_

Clary barely felt their movements. All she knew was how safe and how warm she felt in his arms. Unclasping their hands, she reached up and wrapped her other arm around his neck, pulling herself closer still. He moved his other hand around her back, slid up her spine and cupped the back of her neck, holding her tightly against him.

_And everything that I thought never would now is happening_

_ A brand new horizon is opening_

_ I'm hoping we don't miss this moment_

"Jace?" Clary asked as she pressed her face more snuggly to his chest, relishing in his warmth and scent.

"Hmm?" His voice vibrated through him, giving Clary the most amazing sensation as her body stayed flush with his.

"Would it be too cheesy for me to tell you that I love you right now?"

He chuckled. "Yes."

"Well, I do."

He bent down and brushed his lips on the top of her head. "Me too."

_ You showed me how, life is worth living_

_ I have no doubt, it's all about giving_

She lifted her head and met his eyes. "Don't you ever wish things could be normal?"

He raised his brows. "Normal?"

"Yeah, you know, like without all this supernatural crap going on around us. That we could be a normal teenage couple and the worst worries we had were getting caught making out by our parents?"

He laughed again. "We do worry about that."

"Oh yeah."

He raised his hands and cupped her cheeks. "But, I know what you mean and yeah, sometimes, that would be nice. I'd like to not be constantly fighting and killing."

"Liar." Clary grinned and lowered her hands to wrap around his waist.

His thumbs ran over her jawbone. "You're right. I really do love what I do. But I would give it all up if it meant keeping you safe. Keeping you happy."

_ I'm reaching out, right here right now_

_ Don't you see . . . I'd give you everything_

She studied him carefully, her gaze flickering from one of his eyes to the other, searching for any sign of misgiving in them. There was nothing. "You really mean that don't you?"

He stared back at her; his eyes filled with so many things, Clary couldn't distinguish one from another. Closing his eyes, he leaned down and touched his lips to her forehead, ran them gently down her temple to her ear, and to her surprise, sang the final lines of the song in her ear. "_A brand new horizon is opening. For you and me. Don't you see . . . I'd give you everything."_

Her breath caught as the words registered in her mind along with the fact that he'd actually_ sung_ them to her. She'd never heard him sing before and was mildly disgusted that he could do it so _well_, but more than anything, she was aware of the unbearable swell of emotion rising inside her. Her breathing accelerated as she reached out and clicked the back button, starting the song over again. She glanced up meeting his confused look. "Sing it again," she whispered.

Surprise crossed his face for one brief instant before he took her back into his arms, rested his lips next to her ear and did exactly as she asked. Clary closed her eyes and in that moment, everything else fell away. She felt nothing but Jace's body swaying with hers and his hands on her waist and at the back of her neck. Not a single sound made its way into her consciousness except his voice singing the words into her ear. She held onto him, tears falling over her cheeks, but not ones of grief or anger. The only feelings that lived inside her at that moment, were ones of peace, contentment, and longing. For him and for time to just stop and allow them to stay exactly as they were for eternity. Because right then, everything was perfect. Utterly and absolutely perfect. In her arms, she held the most precious thing in her life, and in his arms, she felt the same.

Jace moved slightly, his lips trailing along her cheek until they reached hers. His hands ran up her back and over her shoulders to her neck. Tracing his fingers along her collarbone, he raised them a little more until they rested just along her jaw. With his eyes closed and his lips on hers, he whispered the last line, "Don't you see . . . I'd give you everything."

With a straggled cry, Clary tightened her grip around his neck and crushed her lips to his, devouring his mouth with hers. "My God," she spoke between kisses, "if that wasn't the sexiest, most romantic thing . . ." She couldn't even finish her thought she was so overcome with the need to kiss him.

Jace's arms wrapped around her waist, lifting her up and holding her flush against him as he returned her kiss, chuckling against her lips. "Why do you seem so surprised? I do have a bit of it in me you know."

"I know." She peppered his face with kisses. "But, you've never—God—you've never done anything so—so . . ."

He pulled back and met her eyes, a small smirk tugging at the edge of his mouth. "I didn't know you'd like it, or else I would have done it a long time ago."

"I did. I liked it—no, I loved it." She tucked a few stray curls behind his ears. "I love you." She paused. "How—how did you know the words?"

"What?"

"The words—to the song. How did you know the words?"

He moved his lips across her cheek once more to her ear, his breath fanning across her neck. "You play it all the time, how could I not know it?"

She shuddered against her will and closed her eyes, allowing herself to enjoy the feel of his lips against her skin and the way his words caressed her body in warmth.

"I meant it, Clary. I _would_ give you everything, give up anything, whatever you wanted, just to make you happy. To keep you safe. Because you are what matters to me, more than anything else. You _are_ my everything." His lips skimmed the skin just below her ear, causing her to tremble against him. "You're all I want, all I need."

Clary's fingers twisted into his hair as his mouth ghosted down her neck and followed the curve of her collarbone to the small space just between them at the base of her neck. She let her head fall back as he placed a small kiss right there. The sensation of his barely there touch ignited every nerve in her body as his fingers slid along the exposed skin of her neck, tracing the line his lips just made.

"Jace." Her breath caught as his lips brushed her collarbone.

"Hmm?" His voice vibrated against her causing her to shutter and clench her eyes shut.

"You're—" Another chill rocked through her. _"God." _Her legs shook. "You're driving me crazy."

He continued to smother her with kisses just under her jaw. "You don't like it?" He murmured against her skin.

"Like it?" She sighed. "God, yes. I love it." Her breath hitched. "But—" She squeaked and her grip tightened on his hair as he brushed his lips along the sensitive spot where her neck and shoulder met. Her breathing embarrassingly sped up. "But Ma—Maryse said we needed to meet for—God you need to stop—for—" She whimpered against the sensations he caused to flare up in her body.

"I know," he said without ceasing his torturous movements.

"Then we should—we should—" She stuttered, unable to complete a single thought with him doing that.

He sighed, sending a gush of hot air against her neck, causing her to shutter once more. Making his way back up to her ear, he spoke in a quiet, low voice, "I'll finish this later." After placing one more small kiss just below her ear, he pulled away.

Clary swayed momentarily in the wake of the euphoria he'd caused in her. Her muddled mind took a few moments to clear as she stared back at him. If he had any idea how completely he affected her, she'd never have a moments peace—not that she really wanted one. Every single cell in her body cried out for more, always more. More of his kiss, more of his touch, more, just more.

She stood there for a few moments, knowing if she tried to move she'd most likely fall over. Her legs still trembled slightly beneath her as she watched him gather his jacket and the book he'd been reading. Did he feel it too? Was it possible that, when she tried, that she did the same things to him? If she didn't then she was determined to work at it until she did because there was nothing and no one in the entire world that made her feel the way he did.

He turned back to her, transferring both the jacket and the book to one hand. "Are you ready?"

Still unable to speak, she nodded her head.

He held out his hand to her with a crooked grin. "Let's go then."

She smiled back and slipped her hand into his. Tingles shot up her arm at his touch and anticipation clenched in her chest as she thought about his promise. _I'll finish this later._ Later. Yes, yes he would. And what a brilliant "later" it would be.

* * *

***Sigh*. I'm sorry for the cheese, but stuff like that takes my breath away. Believe me, even tough guys have the ability to do something so completely and devastatingly romantic as to sing to their girl. Even Jace. I think I just fell more in love with him.**

**Now, you MUST find this song and listen to it—so you too can hear Jace sing to you too. :D**

**Reviews make Jace think of more ways to steal our breath…**


	31. Chapter 31

**Holy mother-of-long-chapters-Batman! Oh yes, it's another monstrous (for me) chapter! There's a wee bit of fluff for you fluff lovers and a wee bit of carnage for you action lovers. :D I'm trying to please you all here so, you know, be gentle. Fluff is where I'm comfortable (as I'm quite positive you've noticed!). I can write you sweet to smoking hot scenes between J&C all day long, but you ask me to stretch my abilities and write fighting so I tried. Hope it will be somewhat satisfactory for you!**

**And I just have to say, GIRL POWER! Yes, this is a Clary chapter. All Clary, all the time. I wanted to give her a little bit of time in the spotlight (the most I can give her anyway since Jace is and always will be my favorite hero and I just can't resist his advances—sorry!). Hope you enjoy!**

**I want to shout out to all you awesome reviewers. I love you and your awesomeness! Keep it up, I'm now officially a review junkie and need my drug of choice to continue writing, haha!**

**Chapter Songs:**

_**Hands**_** by Jewel (Clary—Scene 1 beginning)**

_**By the Way**_** by Hinder (Clary and Jace—Scene 1 middle) – I'm a Hinder junkie too. This is either a 'love 'em' or 'hate 'em' group. Personally, I could curl up to his voice on a cold—or pretty much any—night. He makes me want to die a little inside (in a good way) every time he croons in my ear. Just sayin'. ;)**

_**Miss Independent**_** by Kelly Clarkson (Clary—Scene 2)**

****All characters owned by Cassandra Clare. I own nothing but plot, interpretation and, yep, you guess it, every shred of Jace's clothing (which I hope to remove again shortly; ) ).****

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Fading streams of light filtering through the new window glinted off the hilts of the various weapons in the room. Clary stood in the middle of it all taking in the enormous options available to her. Each of the others had a "specialty" or favorite. Did she? Was there something she preferred to use or was better at than other things?

Isabelle excelled at the whip—a weapon Clary most definitely didn't. She just couldn't get the technique down well enough to call herself proficient. If she tried to use it in a fight, more than likely the only thing being damaged would be herself.

Alec was best with a bow and arrows. Clary did all right with those. She almost hit the target when she tried. Almost. But in this game, almost wasn't good enough. What if she missed in that crucial moment? It could mean the end of her, or worse, someone else. No. That wasn't acceptable. No bow and arrows.

And Jace—well, Jace could lay his skilled hands on any weapon and wield it with perfection. His weapon of choice most times was a seraph blade. He liked any large knife, truth be told, but he reached for seraph blades most often. Clary liked them. They felt warm and powerful in her hands. Also, she wasn't completely horrible at handling them. But still, they didn't feel like "the one."

Frustrated, Clary sat down Indian style in the middle of the rug, placing her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands. Why was this so hard? Why didn't she feel confident enough in her own abilities to choose? She glanced down at her hands. They didn't look like the hands of a fighter. They were small and virtually unmarked. Not at all like Jace's large, strong, skilled hands. Hers were not strong and definitely not as skilled. She felt clumsy and weak next to him, next to all of them.

Ever since she'd returned from Idris, she'd been working so hard. She'd studied everything Maryse gave her. She could name seventy-five different species of demon off the top of her head, their weaknesses, and the best weapons to defeat them. Her fighting technique had improved ten-fold and her Sight was growing stronger by the day. Even still, she couldn't figure out where her strengths lay. Sure she had the gift of runes, but as she already knew, that wouldn't really help her in the midst of combat. Not really.

Flopping down on her back, she stared up at the ceiling, studying the arched design. A rustle near the door caught her attention and she turned her head toward it. Jace stood in the door way, his shoulder against the frame and his arms crossed over his chest.

"Are you done sulking yet?" she asked.

Jace had been less than thrilled when Maryse announced that Clary was now to accompany them on routine sweeps. It wasn't full on hunting yet, but she was getting closer. The idea both thrilled and terrified her. Jace, of course, didn't think she was ready. If he had his way, she'd never be ready. As annoying as it was, she understood why he felt that way. She understood his compulsion to protect her, to keep her safe, because she felt the same way about him. Fortunately for her, he was much better equipped to get the job done than she was. There was very little Jace needed protection from in the demon sense.

"Maybe," he said.

Clary rolled her eyes and jerked her head, motioning for him to come in. He pushed off the doorframe and lowered his hands, making his way toward her. When he reached the center of the room, he sank down to the ground and lay next to her. After a few moments, he glanced toward her.

"Why are we laying in the middle of the weapons room? You know there are much more comfortable places to lie."

She turned her head to him. "I'm choosing my weapons."

He bit the inside of his lower lip and furrowed his brow. "Clary, I hate to break it to you but the weapons aren't going to walk to you. You have to actually go to them, pick them up, and put them in your belt."

She sighed and turned to her side, propping herself up on one elbow. "But I don't know what to pick. I mean, I'm not good on the whip like Isabelle or the bow and arrows like Alec. I'm not like you and good at everything. I just don't know what to choose."

Jace reached over and took her hand in his. He held it up in front of him, his fingers tracing the lines of hers gently, almost as if he was studying them. "That's because you're going about it all wrong. _You_ don't choose, it chooses you—in a way."

"Quit teasing me." She tried to pull her hand away, but he held firm and met her eyes.

"I'm not."

"What do you mean?"

Jace continued stroking her hand. "Haven't you ever wondered why Isabelle always uses a whip and Alec always uses his bow?"

Clary shrugged. "Because they're best at them."

"True, but that's not why they chose them initially."

"Then why?"

"Well, choosing weapons isn't as easy as simply deciding. The right weapon for you is the one that doesn't really feel like an object but rather an extension of yourself." He sat up and then stood, pulling her up with him. Leading her to the far wall, he picked up a whip—much like the one Isabelle always used—and held it out to her. "Take this and tell me what you feel."

Clary furrowed her brows and took it. "It feels like a whip."

"Right." He gave a short nod. "Because it's not right for you." Taking it from her hand, he hung it back over its hook.

Next he handed her a bow. Clary shrugged. "It's a bow." He took it from her hands and led her to another section. Covering the entire wall were knives and daggers of every size.

"Close your eyes," he said.

"What?"

He sighed. "Just do it."

She frowned. "Don't try anything funny."

His lips curled up into a sly grin. "Guess you'll just have to trust me."

"Umm hmm," she said, but closed her eyes anyway.

She heard the rustle of his clothing as he moved closer to her and then felt the heat of his fingers as his hands cupped her face. "I'm going to give you different things. I want you to hold them and tell me what they make you feel."

Without hesitation, she reached out and placed her hands on his waist, slipping up under the edge of his t-shirt and grazing the skin at his sides. "Want me to start now?" She grinned.

He chuckled, his breath fanning across her face. "Maybe later." He leaned forward and placed a small kiss on the end of her nose before pulling away.

Her hands fell back to her sides. "Oh, fine." She pouted.

"Better be careful. If you keep doing that your face will get stuck that way—not that it would bother me. You look pretty cute with your bottom lip sticking out like that."

"You know that's not true."

"How do you know? Do you want to test the theory?"

"Shut up and find me some weapons."

He laughed quietly. After a moment, he returned and placed a smooth, cool, object in her hand and then stepped back. "Okay, what do you feel?"

She furrowed her brow and ran her thumb over the object, trying to force herself to feel something, anything. "Nothing. Just cold steel."

Before she could say another thing, the weapon disappeared and another took its place. Again, she felt nothing. Not that she knew what she was supposed to be feeling. After a dozen or so weapons, she started to get frustrated. "Can I open my eyes now?"

"No."

She sighed. "Well, at least tell me what I'm supposed to be feeling."

"I don't know."

"What?" she nearly shouted. "You don't know?"

"No, I don't _not_ know. I just can't describe it. You'll know it when you feel it."

"I think you're just screwing with me."

He laughed. "Okay, I admit it. I am a little."

"Jace—"

"Well, I had to be sure first. I think I know what your weapon is."

"What?" She started to open her eyes.

"No! Keep them closed."

She exhaled loudly and felt him come closer again. His fingers slid slowly over the back of her hand as he lifted it palm up. He raised it and pressed his lips to her palm before placing a light object inside and closing her fingers around it. Her breath hitched as a strange warmth traveled up her arm, flickering and pulsing like tendrils of fire from the point the object touched her skin. She tightened her grip around it and pinched her brows together. Rubbing her thumb over the base, she felt the smooth coolness of the metal and grooves of the carvings etched in the handle.

"Open your eyes, Clary," he said quietly.

She did and focused her gaze on her hand and the small silver dagger clutched inside it. "A dagger?" She glanced up at Jace.

He nodded.

"How did you know?"

"How many times do I have to tell you that I watch you all the time? I've seen your expression as you practiced with them and how your body reacted to them. Like they were a part of you, an extension."

"But I'm not any good with them."

"Yes you are." He reached forward and grasped her shoulders, spinning her around to face the opposite direction. Across the room hung a bullseye. Jace's hands trailed from her shoulders down her arms, his fingers brushing lightly over the backs of her hands before his touch left her completely. He leaned forward, his breath tickling her ear. "Give it a shot."

She turned her head to meet his gaze. "Now?"

He nodded once. "Now."

Clary glanced back down to the gleaming dagger in her hand, closed her eyes and took a deep breath, turning back to the target in front of her. She loosened her shoulders and drew her arm back just as Jace had shown her. With a fluid pull through, she thrust her arm forward and let the small silver knife slip through her fingers. It sliced through the air and with a resounding thud, struck the center circle of the bullseye.

"Ah!" She jumped up and twirled around, throwing herself into Jace's arms. "Did you see that? I did it!"

He gave her a tight smile. "I did." Leaning down he placed a quick kiss on her lips.

She frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He withdrew his arms from around her.

"Jace."

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, looking up at her from under an escaped curl. "It's nothing, really. Please, can we just drop it?"

She reached forward and brushed the chunk of hair back. "Are you still worried about me going out?"

"Clary." He pulled away and turned his back to her. "I told you to drop it."

She stepped around him until she stood before him once more. "Do you think I can't handle it? Is that it?"

"No." His eyes stayed fixed on the floor.

"Then what?"

He met her gaze, his eyes pleading. "It's just me, okay? I—I really don't want to talk about it."

Clary blew out an exasperated breath. "When are you going to realize that your attitude affects me? When you're not sure of me, it makes me anxious and self-conscious. I'm trying to be strong enough to handle everything. Remember, I wasn't raised in all this." She gestured to the numerous weapons hanging on the walls. "I need you to believe in me, too."

"I do," he said "I'm just over protective, you know that. You know how I am."

"Yeah, you want control over everything. Even me."

His mouth dropped open. "I do not. Not you anyway."

"No?"

"No."

She narrowed her eyes and studied his face. He seemed sincere enough. "You know I'll be with you most of the time when we go out anyway, so I don't get what the big deal is. You can still perform your superhero act if you want."

"Come on Clary, you know that's not what this is about."

"Well, then what is it, Jace?"

He let out a deep breath. "It just feels irresponsible."

"What?" Her eyes widened and she took a step back. "It's irresponsible to let me hunt? How can you say that? You know how hard I've been studying. How hard I've been training. I can't believe you—"

He held up a hand to stop her. "That's not what I meant." He glanced down and shoved his hands in his pockets before looking back up at her. "You know how I feel about you. To me, it feels irresponsible of _me _to put you in that situation. To willingly watch you fight, knowing it's a possibly you could be hurt or—worse. Every bone in my body screams at me to protect you. You're my girl and that's my job. This just feels wrong—to me—on so many levels."

She scowled at him, anger still burning in her chest. "Why do you think I can't take care of myself? I did it for fifteen years before you came along. I can do it again."

"There weren't monsters in your world then."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "Just because I didn't know about them didn't change the fact that they were there, Jace."

Jace took a few steps forward and took her face in his hands. "This—right here—is the most important thing in my world. If I had my way, you would never fight. Never be subjected to any of this. I can't _stand_ it. Don't you understand that? Can't you see that that's what this is about? I just want to protect you, Clary. Always."

Clary's anger slowly dissipated, no matter how much she wanted to hold onto it. She couldn't hold those feelings against him because she felt the same way about him. "You don't get to always have your way, Jace," she whispered. "This is what I am. What I was born to do. I'm a Nephilim just like you."

He closed his eyes and bent to rest his forehead against hers. "I know. That doesn't mean I have to like it."

She leaned forward and brushed her lips against his. "No, you don't. But you do have to accept it."

He nodded. "I will. I do."

"Good." She wrapped her fingers around his wrists and pulled his hands from her face. "Now help me pick out some more weapons. If I'm going to kick some demon butt I need to be prepared."

He smiled and shook his head. "What am I going to do with you?"

A grin creeped over her lips. "You're going to help me fill my belt then you're going to accompany me to some dark alley to bust up some demonic filth." She leaned forward and breathed in his ear. "And then after that you're going to fulfill the promise you made me earlier." She pressed her lips just below his ear before pulling away. "So we better get going."

He stared at her, his eyes dark and mischievous. "You're a dangerous creature Clary Fray."

"I know, right? See. Nothing to worry about."

***

"Isabelle," Clary said. "How can you possibly fight in those?" She gestured to the knee high black boots Isabelle wore.

Isabelle glanced down before raising her gaze to Clary once more. "What? Have you ever been kicked in the head with one of these?" She raised her foot to show the three inch block heel. "It freakin' hurts."

"Yeah, but what if you have to run?"

Isabelle stopped up short. "Run? You can't be serious. We don't run, Clary—unless it's running right into the middle of it then—"

"Don't listen to her Clary," Jace glanced over his shoulder at her. "You have my permission to run anytime you wish tonight."

Clary stuck her tongue out at him at the same time Isabelle let out a disgusted sound. "God Jace, loosen the reins a bit."

"Shut up, Isabelle," he said.

"Quit being such a possessive ass. Clary's ready. I've trained her well." Isabelle winked at Clary knowing her words would set Jace off. Clary stifled a giggle.

Jace stopped and whipped around, finding himself nose to nose with Isabelle. "You? I seem to recall—"

"Whoa guys," Alec said. "Sensor's going off." He stuck the device in his pocket and reached to his back, pulling his bow off.

Jace's body tensed for a millisecond before the seraph blade in his hand sprang to life. Isabelle's whip was already uncoiled and hanging at her side. Clary stood there for a second longer before remembering she needed to prepare herself too. Reaching to her side, she slipped one of her new daggers out of her belt and held it firmly in her hand. The same warm tingle shot up her arm, giving her confidence that she could use the weapon with enough skill to get the job done.

In that moment, everything seemed to stop. She heard none of the buzzing traffic, none of the passing mundanes. The only sound was her ragged breath and her beating heart. She focused her attention on Jace. His eyes scoured the area, his body rigid and ready. Alec appeared much the same, only he held his bow taut and ready to release at the first sign of movement. Isabelle's stance was the most relaxed of the three. She stood with her legs apart and her hands hanging at her sides. Her silky black hair swayed slightly in the breeze.

Clary didn't know what to do with herself. She felt overwhelmed and very inexperienced. Just as she started allowing doubt to crowd her mind, a heavy object dropped onto her from above. She let out a loud shriek, and almost as quickly as it had fallen, the weight was suddenly ripped from her. Jace stood above her, his hand clutched around the arm of a winged humanoid creature. With a small twist of his body, Jace launched the demon against the nearest wall where Isabelle promptly plunged a knife into its chest.

Flapping sounds filled the air above them as Jace reached down and pulled her to her feet. "Okay?"

She nodded, her eyes immediately lifting to the space over their heads. A half-dozen or more of the winged beasts hovered over their heads. Their black lacy wings stretched out to their sides. Boney spikes stuck out about six inches from the ends of each section of the ragged wings. Their bodies were a pale gray and glistened with moisture. Their webbed feet and hands ended in curled, sharp claws.

Jace kept his eyes on the circling menace as he instructed her. "Listen, these things aren't hard to kill, just a pain to catch. Aim for their hearts and stay clear of the claws. Got it?"

She nodded. "Y—yes."

"Okay. Let's do it." He crouched down, and then using his strength and ability to jump, leapt up and grabbed one of the creatures by the ankle, plunging it to the ground below.

At this, the beasts still circling let out a chorus of high pitched shrieks and began dive bombing the rest of them. In the flurry of activity, Clary lost sight of the others. The only thing in her vision now was an abundance of slippery gray skin and webs of black. Before she could react, she found herself back on the ground, staring up into the blazing red pits of a creature's eyes, her dagger a few feet away.

Without thinking, she flung her foot up and slammed it into the demon's chest. As it staggered back from the force of her kick, she flipped over into a crouch and then stood. She spun around and landed another hard hit to its stomach. While it worked to collect itself, she lunged for her dagger. Just as her fingers closed around the cold hilt, she felt a tug on her hair and a scrape against her scalp. She looked up just in time to miss another swipe of a second creature's claws. A swift whoosh sounded above her head as a bow whizzed through the air, striking the creature right in the heart. She met Alec's eyes for a brief instant and nodded before turning back to the demon in front her. It lunged for her once more, scratching its sharp fingernails along her forearm. She cried out and pushed forward, landing an elbow in its face. As it jeered back, she twirled the dagger in her hand and sprung forward sinking the blade deep into its chest. Hot, sticky ichor flowed out over the hilt and covered her hand. Determined to finish it off, she gripped the handle tighter and twisted. A crack echoed through the alley as the creature fell to her feet, disappearing before it hit.

A loud crash sounded behind her and she turned just in time to see Alec fighting one off to the side, and Isabelle straight ahead staving off one of her own. Three others rounded on Jace. It seemed they'd figured out he was the most formidable foe among them and pooled their resources there.

Clary started toward him when she felt a hard tug on her hair, causing her to fall back and a surprised scream to spill from her mouth. In that second, Jace's eyes moved to her, giving the creatures advancing on him the chance to take advantage of his momentary attention lapse. All three creatures pounced on him, blocking him completely from Clary's view.

Rage exploded behind her eyes as she twisted to the demon clutching her hair. It stared down at her with eyes the color of blood. She fumbled at her side, wrapping her fingers around the handle of a long silver knife. Pulling it out, she whipped around and caught the creature right in the side, cutting a long slice just under its ribs. It roared and lashed out, dragging its sharp clawed hand down her cheek. Hot blood flowed over her face and onto the collar of her shirt. The coppery tinge filled the air igniting a wave of nausea in her stomach. She breathed in deeply through her nose to ward it off and reached to her side once more, grabbing one of her daggers. Lifting it above her head, she swung her arm forward, releasing it just as Jace had taught her. It flew through the air and struck its target right in the heart. The creature fell to the ground, folding in on itself in front of her.

The sound of shrieks and the flap of wings from behind her brought her attention back to Jace. His pursuers were down to two at that point, but he had lost his seraph blade and even with his strength and speed, he wasn't able to gain enough advantage on the two to reach for another weapon. Lunging to the ground, Clary retrieved her dagger, set her stance and took aim on the creature closest to her. She narrowed her eyes, pulled back, and let the knife loose. It struck the beast right to the left of its spine. It arched back before falling into nothing at Jace's feet. This gave Jace the in he needed and he reached to his side, pulled out a long blade, and swung it swiftly through the air, slicing through the creatures neck and sending its head tumbling to the ground.

Clary watched as Alec finished off his demon and Isabelle hers. She let out a loud sigh of relief as her legs trembled beneath her. Jace rushed over to her, his brows pinched together as his hand rose to her face.

"Did you see?" she asked, excitedly. "Did you see what I did?"

He nodded and fumbled at his pocket for his stele.

"Jace, I did it. I fought them off. Me. By myself."

"I know, Clary. You did good." He grabbed her arm and traced an iratze on the inside of her wrist.

"Good?" Isabelle stood next to him, her hands on her hips. "Are you blind, Jace? She just saved your ass."

Jace was too busy searching Clary for other injuries to answer. He seemed almost possessed even though he'd already applied the healing rune.

Clary reached out and grabbed his chin, forcing him to meet her gaze. "I'm fine, Jace," she said, softly. "I'm fine."

He let out a gust of air and crushed her to his chest, one of his hands on her back and the other fisted in her hair, holding her head firmly to him. She reached up and laid her hands on his back. "I'm fine," she whispered again.

"I know," he said into her hair. He pulled back and looked her right in the eye. "You were amazing."

A huge grin broke over her face. "Really?"

He smiled back. "Really."

She flung herself forward and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. "Thank you."

He held her close to him, planted a small kiss to her temple, and buried his face in her hair. Isabelle made a disgusted sound next to them and Alec chuckled before the two of them set off down the alley.

Clary pulled back and met Jace's eye. "Now, about what you owe me . . ."

He grinned. "You don't forget a thing do you?"

"No, I don't. And you promised."

He took her hand and pulled her with him after Isabelle and Alec. "That I did. And as you know, I don't back down when I give one."

She smiled to herself. "I'm going to hold you to that."


	32. Chapter 32

**Thank you so much for all your awesome reviews. Really, they totally make my day—you have no idea.**

**Sometimes I have to laugh because when I write fluff a couple reviewers ask for action (which I don't have a problem with at all—love me some action), and then when I write action, I get numerous requests for fluff. Haha! It just strikes me as funny. I hope the action junkies were appeased because this chapter is a return to super sappy fluff. After this one, I think Clary and Jace will be separated for a bit so we won't have any for a little while. Sigh. **

**This chapter is what I like to call…Sweetly Steamy (at least that was what I was aiming for!). You'll have to let me know. Since I don't write lemons, this is probably pretty close to the most you're gonna get from me, haha! Hope you enjoy!**

**First things first: I need to shout out to Aimee Lafontaine for the excellent song suggestion of **_**Pretend**_** by Lights. It worked perfectly for this scene. :) Thank you!**

**Chapter Songs:**

_**Pretend**_** by Lights (First part)**

_**We Don't Have to Look Back Now**_** by Puddle of Mudd (Ending part)**

****As always I don't own anything. Except for—well, you know what. ;)****

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Clary stayed quiet on the way back to the Institute. Isabelle and Alec joked and played around in front of them, but Clary felt no need for words. She was content to just walk at Jace's side, her hand nestled completely in his with his thumb brushing back and forth against the back of hers. If she closed her eyes, for a moment she could pretend they hadn't just fought a group of winged creatures. That she didn't have the stained remnants of their ichor on her sleeve or the red smear of her own blood on the collar of her shirt. That she was just a girl and Jace was just a boy, and they were just in love. No Angel blood, no monsters, no fighting, no strange effects of a serum they knew not enough about. They just were and that was enough.

Her life definitely hadn't turned out the way she'd planned. If she were "normal" she'd be a junior in high school. She and Simon would be scoping out Pandemonium, listening to Eric's pathetic attempts at poetry, and brainstorming more band names for him to suggest at their next practice. Her mom wouldn't be worried every second of every day, and Clary would have more time with her art.

She tried to imagine Alec, Isabelle, and Jace as average teenagers and couldn't suppress a giggle.

Jace turned to her. "What?"

She shook her head. "Oh, nothing. I was just thinking about what it would be like if you, Alec, and Isabelle were normal teenagers. You know, like we talked about earlier. I mean, what would you be like if you were in high school?"

"That's kind of a scary thought."

The gates of the Institute loomed ahead. Clary stopped and grabbed Jace's other hand, turning to face him. "Humor me. What do you think you'd be like?"

He laughed. "I don't know, Clary. I'm not even sure I know what "normal" is. Why don't you tell me?"

She eyed him carefully. "Hmm. You'd probably be one of those guys I hated."

His mouth dropped open and a disbelieving laugh escaped his lips. "What?"

She shrugged. "You're too pretty to be anything like what I hung around with. I was an art geek. Hung around with other geeks." She smiled. "You'd probably be some kind of jock. Not baseball—because that's way too slow for you—and not basketball because, well, because I hate basketball."

Jace laughed at her reasoning and took her hand, leading her through the gates toward the elevator.

"Maybe football—that's manly enough for you I think—but maybe soccer because that's fast and takes quite a bit of skill and agility—which you most definitely aren't lacking." She tilted her head to the side and studied him. "Even though I'd hate you, I think I'd have to come watch you play, just because it would be too beautiful a sight to miss."

Jace stepped closer to her and took her face in his hands. "Or maybe I'd end up being a punk just like I am now. A skater boy entertaining everyone with my witty stories and sarcastic remarks while I tried to show off my newest tricks—most of which would land me on my ass." Clary laughed at the image. "Would you like me then?" His face drew nearer to hers, his mouth so close all she had to do was tilt her chin up and she'd land hers on his. "If I dressed in baggy pants and oversized shirts with a backwards cap, would you still look at me the way you do? Would you still want me if I wasn't what I am? If I wasn't strong, if I wasn't skilled, if I was just average? Would you love me then, Clary?"

Clary met his gaze, her eyes wide and searching. "Yes," she whispered. "Would you?"

Jace's eyes traveled over her face as if he were memorizing every facet of her being. "I loved you from the first moment I saw you. Before I knew who you were or what you were. So yes, I can say that, without a shadow of a doubt, I would."

Her breath caught. "You shouldn't do that."

His brow furrowed. "What?"

"Sweet talk me like that. It's not fair."

He chuckled and brushed his nose against hers before pulling her into the elevator. "Why not?"

"Because I'm nowhere near as smooth as you. It's an unfair advantage."

"You vastly underestimate yourself." He placed a chaste kiss on her waiting lips. "Do you have any idea what you do to me?"

She shook her head, unable to speak over her heart which had crowded its way into her throat.

"Shall I show you, then?"

Clary's breathing increased and she swallowed hard before nodding.

Jace smiled against her mouth before taking her bottom lip between his and sucking on it gently. Clary's eyes rolled back slightly before fluttering closed.

The ding of the doors opening barely peaked her consciousness until she heard someone clear their throat. Somewhere in her Jace-haze she felt him pull away, although not even that could remove her completely from the level of euphoria he brought her to.

"By the Angel, Jace. What did you do to that poor girl?" Isabelle's voice rang out.

Clary swayed slightly as she came out of the fog. "Huh?" she said unintelligibly, and blinked.

Jace snickered and Isabelle rolled her eyes before turning to Jace. "Mom wants to see you."

He sighed. "What for?"

Isabelle scowled. "I don't know. What do I look like, your private messenger?"

"If a private messenger dresses in knee high boots and leather then, yeah."

"Just go before she comes after me wondering why I didn't get you."

"Fine." He rolled his eyes. "I'll be back in a few, okay?"

Clary nodded, still recovering from Jace's seductive onslaught.

"Come on." Isabelle tugged on Clary's arm as Jace disappeared down the hall. "I think you need a cold shower or something."

"What?" She twisted to look at Isabelle.

"Oh, come on." Isabelle gave her a knowing smirk. "Your face is lit up like a streetlamp and your cheeks the color of a tomato."

Clary raised her hand and laid it on her cheek. It was burning hot.

Isabelle laughed and pulled Clary through the door of her bedroom, throwing Clary's sketchbook to the night stand and plopping down on the bed. Clary took a deep breath and fell down next to her, trying to clear her mind of the kiss in the elevator.

"Girl, you are totally gone."

"What?" Clary craned her neck to look up at Isabelle.

She cocked her head toward the open door. "Over him. I've seen him charm girls before but never to this extent."

Clary furrowed her brows. "Other girls," she said mostly to herself, though the thought still bothered her. She was well aware of Jace's past history with the opposite sex, but it still wasn't something she liked to think about.

"Don't worry about it, Clary. He's totally crazy over you, too."

She raised her gaze to Isabelle again. "And he—he wasn't—you know—"

Isabelle met her eyes. "Never. Not even close."

Clary raised her hands to her eyes and let out a shaking breath.

"God, what does he do to you and could you please let Simon in on the secret?"

Clary laughed. "Nothing. Everything. I can't describe it."

"Try." Isabelle's eyes lit up and she scooted down the bed to maintain eye contact with Clary.

"I don't know, Izzy. He just—he's—" She sighed trying to find the words. "He knows exactly what to say, exactly the way to touch me, exactly the way to kiss me to just make me lose my mind. I don't know how he does it. Sometimes it drives me up the wall because I'm sure it's not like that for him. But—I don't know—I just don't know."

Isabelle stared at her, eyes wide and mouth agape. After a moment, she flopped back onto her back. "God. When you guys—you know—it must be freaking fantastic."

"Izzy!"

"What? I'm just saying. I'm jealous."

"So—it's not—you know—with Simon?" Clary swallowed hard, not really sure she wanted an answer.

Isabelle shrugged. "We haven't—yet."

"Oh. I just thought—"

"Nope."

"So, you don't feel like that when you're with him?"

Isabelle propped herself up on her elbow and glanced up out of the corner of her eye. "I guess I don't really know what 'that' feels like. When we're together I feel kind of—like I'm floating and I can't catch my breath." Isabelle met her eye. "If you tell either Jace or Simon I said that, I'll hunt you down, Jace's wrath be damned."

Clary giggled. "I won't."

Isabelle nodded once and looked away. "Good."

"Izzy?"

"Hmm?"

"That's how it starts, you know."

"How what starts?"

"This. What I feel like. It started just like that. Like I was walking in a dream, not really knowing where I was or why, but I could—feel him, all around me, and just looking at him made it hard to breathe. It still does."

"Really?"

Clary nodded. "Really."

Isabelle looked contemplative before she jumped up off the bed. "I think I'm gonna go call Simon."

Clary laughed. "Okay. Tell him I said hi."

Isabelle was a blur of silky black as she waved and rushed out the door.

Clary stared at the open door wondering what Maryse had wanted Jace for and why it was taking so long. She threw her legs over the side of the bed and lifted herself up. Making her way toward the doorway, she stopped and clicked play on her iPod before peeking out into the hall. Empty. Frowning she turned back around, wondering what she could do to pass the time until Jace returned. A glimpse of black caught her eye and she lifted her arm to inspect the stain further. "Gross," she said to herself and resolved to shower and rid herself of all the filth associated with their fight.

Grabbing a clean pair of underwear and a small tank top, she made her way into the bathroom. After turning the knobs and waiting for the water to reach the perfect temperature, she stepped into the stream, allowing the warm water to run over her. She stared at her feet, watching as the remaining ichor and blood swirled at the drain in streaks of red and black. She stood there for several minutes before scrubbing her body clean.

As she stepped out of the shower, she wrapped her body in a large fluffy towel and ran another over her hair. She stood in front of the mirror and stared at her reflection. Her big green eyes stared out at her, accompanied by a smattering of pale freckles. She scowled. What did Jace see in her? She was so—plain. So not beautiful, nothing at all like him.

With a sigh, she hung both towels back on the rack, slipped into her clothes, and ran a brush through her tangled locks. After one more depressing look in the mirror, she opened the bathroom door and made her way into her room. She stopped up quick when she realized Jace was already there, sitting on the edge of her bed, his head down and his hands in his lap.

She furrowed her brow as she made her way over to him. He didn't look up as she approached. She knelt down in front of him, her head coming up to the middle of his chest, and noticed he twirled a white card between his fingers.

"Jace?"

His eyes flicked up and met hers, the twirling stopped.

"What's going on?"

"The Clave contacted Maryse. They want to see me." He held the card up.

Clary's heart thumped in her chest as she took it and looked over the summons. "Why?"

He shrugged. "Probably to poke and prod me after what Stephen did." His shoulders tightened at the mention of Stephen's name.

"What are you going to do?"

His gaze stayed intent on hers. "I don't really have a choice. I have to go."

"But—what about training?"

"Isabelle can take over for me while I'm gone."

The implications of what he was saying hit her. He was going. She was staying. "When?"

"Tomorrow."

Her breath caught. "How long?" she whispered.

He shook his head. "I don't know."

She swallowed against the lump forming in her throat and stood, moving over to the window. Choking back the sobs rising in her chest, she focused on the dim yellow light of the streetlamp across the street. She didn't know what was wrong with her. It wasn't like they'd never been separated before, it just felt worse this time. Maybe because they had grown so much closer and she couldn't stand the thought of him not being there every day, of seeing his face, of feeling him touch her.

The bed creaked and he moved to stand behind her, placing his hands on her bare shoulders.

"Maybe it won't be so bad." He leaned down and placed a soft kiss next to the thin strap of her tank top. "I might be able to get some answers about the side-effects."

"Are you going to see Stephen?" She tried to control the waver in her voice.

"I'm going to try." He brushed his lips along her shoulder, planting another kiss at the bottom of her neck.

She fought to suppress a shiver. "Will you be all right?"

He let out a slow breath, covering her shoulder in its warmth. This time she lost out to the chill racing up her spine. "I hope so." With one hand, he carefully moved her wet hair off to the side and slid his mouth to the nape of her neck, brushing his lips up the back of her spine to her hairline.

Clary closed her eyes and allowed the sensation to overtake her. His hands ran slowly down her arms, his touch feather light. Trails of goosebumps raised in the wake of his fingers. When he reached her hands, he placed his on top of hers and entwined his fingers with hers, squeezing them before leaving to place them on her waist. Clary's heart pounded in her chest as he continued to touch her so lightly she could barely feel it.

Jace continued back down her neck and across the top of her back to the opposite shoulder, leaving her skin tingling. Clary reached behind her, grabbing his hips and pulling him closer. She turned her head, and glanced behind her, finding his lips almost immediately. His kiss lingered, slow and soft as he took her mouth in his, tracing her bottom lip with his tongue. She sighed and opened herself up to him, allowing him in and drowning in his taste. It flowed through her, igniting every nerve like a match-flame, engulfing her body in heat.

His hands trailed up her sides, their light touch causing her to tremble as he made his way up to cup her face. Slowly, she turned to face him, never braking away from their kiss and raised her hands to his waist. He held her face carefully, almost as if she may break under his grip. There was no urgency behind any of it. His thumbs brushed over her cheeks as if she were the most fragile thing in creation.

Clary slipped her fingers up under the bottom edge of his shirt, desperate for contact with his skin. Her hands slid across his stomach, her thumbs tracing the grooves between his abs as she moved them around his sides and up, pulling his shirt with them. He lifted his arms slowly, not breaking their kiss until absolutely necessary.

Once he was free of the shirt, Clary raised her hands to his chest, tracing her fingers along the curve of his collarbone and trailing over his shoulders, wrapping her small hands around his biceps.

Leaning in further, she touched her lips to the base of his neck, and dragged them up to the underside of his chin. She could feel his pulse quicken beneath her mouth and fingertips. Her heart jumped at the thought that maybe she _did _make him feel the way he did her.

With that in mind, she followed the curves of his chest down, placing wet, open-mouthed kisses everywhere her lips touched. She felt him shudder as her fingers trailed down his sides and stop at the exposed band of his underwear. Dipping a finger just below the top, she ran it around the underside of the band. His muscles clenched under her fingers. She smiled against his skin, loving that she could elicit such a reaction from him.

Reaching down further, she carefully undid the button on his jeans and slowly pulled the zipper down. Working her hands underneath the fabric, she slid them around to his hips and pushed his pants off.

His hands slipped up under her tank top, pulling the flimsy fabric with them. She made her way back up his chest, raising her arms as she reached his shoulder once more. The top slid up over her head and as the fabric cleared, she found herself staring right in his eyes. As his gaze lowered to her exposed body, Clary heard a sharp intake of breath. He closed his eyes briefly before meeting hers again.

Jace lowered his face to hers, placing a small kiss on her lips before moving along her jaw and down the side of her neck. Following the same trail as earlier, he brushed along her collarbone to that center space once more. As he did, his fingers came up, moving over her newly bared skin. Gasping, she closed her eyes as his hands closed gently around her and his lips trailed down, lingering at her chest and then lowering to her stomach. He sank to his knees before her, his mouth leaving small butterfly kisses along her abdomen, his fingers tracing across her stomach causing goosebumps to rise on her skin.

She reached down and twisted her hands in his hair as he smothered her body in kisses. After a moment, he slowed and rested his hands at her hips. His thumbs slipped under the band of her panties before he plunged both hands inside, sliding them down her thighs. Her breath caught as he continued his kissing, moving from one hip to the other and then started back up her abdomen. His hands followed up the backside of her body until he stood at full height in front of her.

Before he had the chance to touch her again, Clary grabbed the band of his boxer briefs and tugged them down, rendering him completely bare in front of her. Her breathing accelerated as she took him in. No matter how many times she saw him, his beauty never ceased to amaze her. He was perfectly chiseled, perfectly stunning. She wanted to touch him, wanted to kiss him, but she couldn't move. She felt frozen with awe at this beautiful creature before her, offering himself to her, to only her.

His eyes raked over her, taking in the full view of her standing before him. When he raised his gaze to hers, she saw in their golden depths that she was just as beautiful to him as he was to her. Not able to stand it any longer, she reached out to him, running her hand up his chest. He raised his hands and cupped her face, pulling her toward him and crushing his lips to hers, wasting no time with sweet, soft kisses. He plunged into her mouth, greedily tasting her and stealing her breath. His hands left her face and wrapped around her, holding her impossibly close. She coiled her arms around his neck, twisting her fingers into the soft curls at the nape of his neck.

He bent and lifted her feet from the floor, twirling them both toward the bed. When they stood at the end, he slowly bent, placing one knee on the mattress, and splaying one hand across the comforter, keeping the other arm wrapped tightly around her waist. Clary clung to his neck as he pulled her across the bed to the head and laid her gently down. For a brief moment, he pulled back and moved a stray curl from her forehead. He didn't need to say a word; everything he felt was conveyed perfectly in his eyes. She only hoped hers told him the same things.

Clary loosened her hands from his hair and placed them on his face, her thumbs brushing along his cheekbones. Jace moved his hand to the back of her neck, running his fingers along her jaw. Clary smiled and then pulled his face to hers, letting him know she was ready. He lowered himself slowly onto her, the entire length of their bodies pressing together with nothing between them. Nothing standing in their way. Just the way she wanted. The way she needed.

* * *

**Whew! Okay fluff lovers…how was that? Flufforific enough for you? I think we'll be doing some plot stuff for a bit now. Sniff. But at least you got to see Jace's underwear again…er…the lack thereof. ;) Reviews make Jace even sexier (if that's possible)…**

**A special thanks to Sillysac who held my hand and cheered me on in my attempt to add a little steam. Thanks girl.:)**


	33. Chapter 33

**Okay *twists toe in dirt and looks up with a smug expression* I lied. The fluff did not end with last chapter. *sigh*. Sorry! I just couldn't help it. Jace had other ideas, and you know I cannot deny him anything. What Jace wants, Jace gets.**

**That said. This chapter makes me unbearable sad. My heart hurts now. *Sniff*. So please be gentle.**

**Chapter Songs:**

**Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol (Scene 1)**

**Permanent by David Cook (Scenes 2&3) – this one really makes me want to cry.**

****I own nothing.****

* * *

Jace awoke to a sensory onslaught of Clary. They both lay on their sides, facing each other. Her face nestled against his chest, her warm breath fanning over his skin, and his angled down, smothered in a halo of her hair. The smell of her shampoo filled him with a feeling of serenity, belonging, home. He belonged there, right there, with her safely cocooned in his embrace.

His arms wrapped tightly around her, one snaking around her waist and the other stretched up along her spine, his hand cupped around the back of her neck and twisted in a mass of red curls. One of her hands lay tucked under her cheek while the other rest against his stomach. A thin white sheet bunched up around their waists covering their entangled legs.

Jace took in a deep breath, capturing more of her scent and allowing it to wash over him. To coat his senses and erase all others, surrounding him in all things Clary. Without opening his eyes, his fingers explored the skin at her lower back. The feel of her silky, unblemished flesh under his rough, calloused hands shot tremors of warmth through his body. As gently as he could he tightened his hold on her and pulled her closer, nestling his face even further into her fiery tangles. For the millionth time he wished he could just lie there with her and forget everything else. Forget that he was a Shadowhunter. Forget he had to leave that morning. Forget he would have to see his father once again. Forget that his body was slowly rebelling against an unknown substance, making each day feel that much more desperate. All he wanted was to hold her in his arms and make all the rest disappear.

Clary sighed and snuggled closer, her hand running up over his side and resting on his lower back. Jace fought back a shiver as her soft lips brushed a kiss on the base of his neck. Her fingers moved up and down his back leaving trails of ice and flame etched in his flesh. Clary continued to move her face slowly back and forth across his chest, her nose tracing the contours of his collarbone while she left behind soft kisses every few inches.

"You smell so good in the morning." She inhaled deeply at the crook of his neck.

He chuckled. "As opposed to other times?"

She shook her head, her face still close to his flesh and the movement causing a chill to race up his spine. "No, you always smell good. It's just—well, in the morning—I just love waking up surrounded by you, the feel of you, the smell of you, the taste," she planted an open-mouthed kiss just under his chin, and the feel of her tongue against his skin made his eyes nearly roll back, "of you." She sighed. "I wish we could wake up just like this every morning."

Jace's heart thudded loud and fast. Not because that wasn't what he wanted, but because it was. It was something he thought about often—much more often than anyone may have expected from him. He wanted Clary in every way he could have her, for as long as he could have her. They were already bound by blood, body and soul. The next step wouldn't be so far-fetched ,and if they lived in Idris it would be expected. But they didn't live there and things out here in the "real world" didn't look upon such things the same way. Neither of them were ready for something like that, he knew this. But that didn't stop him from _wanting_ it. From wanting her.

"Me too," was all he said as he placed a kiss amidst the tangles of her hair.

"Hold me, Jace."

"I am holding you."

"Tighter."

Her pleading tone tore at him and he tightened his grasp, crushing her body closer, her curves fitting perfectly against his as if they were made as two perfect halves to one whole. She let out a soft cry and for a moment he feared he'd hurt her. He loosened his grip and peered down into her face, startled to see tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?"

She shook her head, closing her eyes briefly and letting the drops fall silently over her cheeks. "No," she whispered, "it's just not tight enough. It's never tight enough."

An involuntary gush of air escaped from his throat as he squeezed her against him again. "I know. God, I know."

Her fingers dug into his shoulders and her leg hitched up over his hip as she attempted to draw herself as close as she could to him. "Sometimes," she dug her heel into his back, dragging his hips flush against hers, "sometimes it's so painful, so excruciating, not being able to be near enough to you. And there's nothing I can do about it, nothing to ease it, nothing except you." Her hands rose to his head, her fingers twisting into his hair as she pressed her forehead against his.

"Clary," he moaned as he clenched his eyes shut and raised his hands to her face, his body aflame at her words.

"Jace," she whispered, her sweet breath cascading over his face, causing his control to slip further. "Tighter."

With those two words the dam broke free, releasing all of his emotion in a torrent of need, want, and desire. He pulled her face forward, crushing his lips to hers. She opened to him freely, allowing him to surround himself in her essence. Her small hands tightened their grip on his hair, holding him against her with surprising strength. The taste of her flooded his mouth, fueling the already raging inferno inside him. He wanted to devour her. Needed to wrap himself up in her.

She was right, it wasn't enough, it was never enough. The air sparked with the intense, overpowering need consuming them. Their hands clawed at each other as their bodies trembled with it. Jace's mind clouded over anything outside the two of them. The only thing he felt, smelled, saw, wanted, was Clary. Her hands and mouth were everywhere, covering him with her mark.

He grabbed her face once more, his eyes shut as he rested his forehead against hers and struggled to catch his breath. "I love you. God, I love you." The strained words barely left his lips before hers were crashing down on his once more. He wrapped his arms around her tiny body and pulled her on top of him. His fingers trailed along the smooth lines of her back, slipping every so often to her sides and tracing the contours of her waist. He felt her tremble above him as her grip on his hair grew stronger and her kisses deeper.

She moved her hands down, her nails digging into his shoulders. Her lips left his and brushed along his jawbone, stopping at his ear. "Tighter, Jace," she breathed, "tighter."

With a straggled cry, he thrust his head back into the pillow before flipping them both over, landing with her back on the mattress and him hovering over her. And then he did as she asked. He held her. He held her as tightly as he could without hurting her, fitting their bodies together as only they fit. In the only way that got them near enough to the closeness they both desperately needed.

***

Jace lay staring at the ceiling and tracing the line of Clary's shoulder with his finger long after she had fallen asleep. The sun crept higher in the sky and he knew he needed to get going. But no matter how much he knew this, he just couldn't force himself to leave her side. He couldn't stand the thought of leaving her there alone, unprotected. Even though he knew—and she had proven it to him—she was now capable of taking care of herself. It wasn't that he didn't think she could, it was that he _wanted_ to do it. Wanted to keep her from all of it. To spare her from everything that had tainted him. She was much too pure, much too good, much too innocent to exist in this world, in his world. He just wanted to keep her that way. Forever untouched. Forever spotless. He wished that was possible. He wished he could erase everything that had already happened to stain her, all the things that took her away from the life she had always known. A life she had been happy in.

He peered down at her sleeping face, so peaceful with a small smile quirking her lips. Raising a hand, he lightly ran his fingers over her cheek. Her smile grew larger as she snuggled closer to his side. He leaned over and traced the same path his fingers just made with his lips. Reluctantly, he removed his arm from under her, careful not to wake her, and rolled onto his side. For a few moments, he just studied her, memorizing every freckle, every tangled lock of hair. Reaching down, he took her hand in his and brought it up to his mouth. He closed his eyes and held it against his lips, brushing along her knuckles, hating the empty feeling forming in his chest. With a sigh, he placed her hand back down on the bed, extended his and ran it through the curls just above her ear. Leaning forward, he kissed her lips one last time as gently as he could before raising his face and leaving another on her forehead.

Slowly, he slid his body away from hers. The ache in his chest growing the further he got from her warmth. As carefully as he could, he rose from the bed, leaning over to pull the sheets up over her. A large part of him wanted to crawl back underneath with her, but he knew that wasn't a choice he had. Turning from her, he scoped the floor for his cloths. He found his pants, underwear, shoes and socks, but his shirt seemed nowhere to be found. After throwing on what he could find, he turned back to her, watching for just a moment before turning to the door.

With his shoes in his hand, he stole down the hall to his own room. He twisted the knob and threw the door open. The stark contrast between his barely lived in room and Clary's was startling. Where he had only sterile, colorless coolness, she had lived-in, colorful warmth. He longed to be back there, encased in her embrace.

Shutting the door behind him, he leaned against it and closed his eyes, rubbing his hands over his face and through his hair. After a moment, he pounded one fist against the door. He needed to get it together. He was Jace Lightwood, not some love-sick school boy. This sort of thing came with the territory. Absence was a way of life in the Shadowhunter world. He was a soldier, and like any soldier, sometimes separation was inevitable. If that was true, why did it rip him apart to leave? Why could he not stand the thought of not seeing her face, or touching her skin, or the feeling of her lips on his? How did it seem so easy for others when they had to leave? Maybe it wasn't. Maybe it just seemed that way. Maybe it tore them up to leave, too.

Pulling himself together, he threw on a shirt and his jacket then went to his closet and pulled out a duffle bag. From his drawers he gathered any clothing he might need while away. After he made sure he had everything, he left his room, intent to go back to Clary, needing just a few more moments with her. As he exited his room, Alec came out of his.

"Hey." He started toward Jace. "You ready to go?"

Jace nodded. "Just about. You?"

"Yep."

"Sorry, they're making you go with me. I told Maryse it wasn't necessary."

Alec shrugged. "It's no big deal. What else have I got to do?" He smiled.

"True," Jace said. "You really need to get a life."

Alec let out a slow breath. "Tell me about it."

Jace chuckled. "Magnus and Luke here?"

"Outside, getting the portal ready."

Jace nodded and glanced down the hall before meeting Alec's gaze again. A knowing expression flickered in his eyes before he cocked his head in the direction of Clary's room. "Go. We've still got a few minutes. I'll meet you down there.

"Okay. See you in a few." Jace hoisted his bag over his shoulder and made his way to her door. Taking a deep breath, he turned the knob and pushed it open. She lay in the exact same spot she had when he'd left. He smiled and closed the door quietly behind him. As he approached the bed, his foot shuffled over her tank top from the night before. Squatting down he picked it up and ran his fingers over the flimsy fabric. With a smile, he tucked it into his jacket pocket, taking a piece of her with him.

He stood and made his way over to the bed, sitting on the edge being careful not to jiggle it too much. As much as he wanted to wake her, to hold her in his arms again, just once more before leaving, he also didn't want to wipe the blissful expression from her face. By the fluttering of her eyelids, he knew she was dreaming, and from the small smile on her face, he knew it must be good. He couldn't bear to be the cause of the tears that would most likely fall from her eyes or the frown that would stain her lips. If he could choose, the expression he'd love to leave with ingrained in his mind was the one on her face in that moment. One of peace and contentment.

But he knew if he did that, she'd be angry with him for not saying goodbye. Goodbye. A word he didn't want to ever utter in her presence. He leaned forward, his lips hovering over her ear. "Clary," he whispered.

She answered with a sigh.

He reached out and brushed a few curls away from her cheek. "Clary. It's time for me to go."

Her hand slid across the bed and fumbled for his. He reached out and placed it in her path. Once she wrapped her fingers around his she fell even deeper into sleep, her breathing deep and steady.

With a sigh, he pulled his hand out from under hers and reached over to the nightstand, grabbing her sketchpad and pencil. Flipping it open, he scribbled a note, ripped the page as quietly as he could from the book and folded it, laying it on the pillow next to hers. Leaning over, he pressed his lips to her forehead.

"Stay safe," he whispered. "I'll be back soon."

He stood, and with one last glance over his shoulder at her sleeping form, left the room. As the door clicked shut behind him, he felt a sharp pang as a piece of his soul stayed in the room with her.

His feet carried him toward the elevator, his heart heavy and his mind still beside her, holding her close to him.

"Is it time?" A voice called from behind him.

He turned to it, finding Isabelle walking toward him.

"Yeah. Alec, Luke and Magnus are waiting downstairs."

Isabelle eyed him carefully. "Clary?"

For a fraction of a second, he closed his eyes at the mention of her name. "She's still asleep."

Isabelle gave him a reproving look.

"I tried to wake her, but she was really out and . . ." His voice trailed off, not wanting to give Isabelle any more of a glimpse at his feelings.

Her face softened as she caught the look in his eyes. "She'll be fine, Jace."

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. He stepped one foot inside before meeting Isabelle's gaze once more. "Take care of her, Izzy."

"I will. You know I will."

He nodded and stepped completely into the elevator. Turning around, the last thing he saw was Isabelle's confident face as the doors slid shut in front of him.

***

Something in Clary's subconscious pulled at her, telling her she needed to wake up and she needed to do it now. She fought against the rush toward the brightness, too happy there in a dreamworld of her own making. But the constant nagging wouldn't leave her, it tugged against her grasp on unconsciousness and yanked her closer and closer to the light. Finally, she couldn't hold on any longer and opened her eyes to her room, sunlight streaming through the open curtains.

She blinked away the sleep and reached over expecting to find Jace, but her fingers brushed paper instead. Grabbing the folded piece, she bolted up in bed, the sheet tucked around her falling slowly to her waist. She opened it with trembling fingers, and with growing alarm, read the words on the page.

_Clary, I tried waking you, but you were totally out. What have you been doing to cause you to be so tired? I wouldn't know. I'm sorry to leave like this. It's not how I wanted it, but—maybe it's better this way. I can't say goodbye to you, Clary. I don't want to. I want to remember your face as it looks right now. You can't imagine how beautiful it is— Anyway, I need to go. Alec and Luke are waiting. And Magnus is probably having a fit already. Please—and I mean it, Clary, please stay out of trouble. I'll be back soon. I love you. —Jace_

Clary gasped as the paper fell from her hands. He was gone. No, he couldn't be. Not without saying goodbye. She jumped off the bed, grabbed whatever clothes she could find and threw them on. She glanced around for her shoes, but in her frantic state couldn't see them anywhere. With a cry, she turned toward the door, gripped the handle in her shaking hand and pulled it open. She threw herself out of the room, crashing right into Isabelle.

Isabelle's hands gripped Clary's shoulders, her eyes wide. "Whoa, Clary."

"Izzy!" Clary jerked in her grasp. "I've got—Jace—"

"He just left a minute ago—"

Clary twisted out of Isabelle's hands and bolted toward the elevator.

"Clary—" Isabelle called behind her, but Clary ignored her.

Punching the elevator button, she stood there, her heart pounding and her leg bouncing with anxiety. The doors stayed shut. She jabbed the button a few more times. "Damn it!" she shouted at it before slamming her palm against it and turning away, running toward the stairs.

Taking them two-by-two, she was outside in a matter of seconds. She rounded the corner just in time to see Alec step through the portal. Her heart slammed in her chest as she caught sight of his blond head stepping up to it, his bag slung over his shoulder. She ran toward him, tears forming in her eyes.

"Jace!"

His head whipped in her direction.

"Jace! Wait!" The tears fell over her cheeks as he smiled and turned in her direction.

Just before she reached him, he dropped his bag to his feet and held his arms out to her. She jumped up, wrapping hers around his neck and her legs around his waist, sighing in relief as his embrace surrounded her.

"How could you leave without saying goodbye?" she cried into his neck.

"I tried. You sleep like the dead sometimes, Clary."

She pulled back, taking his face in her hands. "I love you."

"I love you, too." He pulled her closer, taking her lips with his.

She clung to him, tears flowing freely as she tried to focus on the sensation of his lips on hers and his arms holding her tight. "I'll miss you," she said when he finally pulled away.

"Me too. But, I'll be back soon."

"Promise?"

He nodded. "I promise." He lowered her to the ground and took her face in his hands. "Promise me something?"

"Okay."

"Promise you'll be careful. I know you're quite capable of taking care of yourself, but it'll make me feel better if you say it."

"I promise."

He let out a slow breath and touched his forehead to hers. "I have to go," he whispered.

She nodded, squeezing her eyes shut tight.

He released her face and bent to retrieve his bag. Slinging it over his shoulder, he leaned forward, ran his fingers across her cheek and touched his mouth softly to hers. "Soon, Clary," he breathed against her lips. "Soon."

She reached up and took his hand in hers as he stepped away. She held on, her arm stretching out from her body as he moved away. Her fingers trailed slowly from his grasp as he turned one more time, smiled, and disappeared through the portal.

* * *

**Okay. I'm a basketcase right now. I HATE separating them .*cries*. Only your sweet words can make me feel better now…*sobs into her sleeve*…**

**So, now that Jace is gone we'll have a break in fluff for those of you that are tired of it (which I cannot understand in the least!! I LIVE for fluff!). So, I'm thinking some Clary/Isabelle fighting off stuff and some Jace smartalecness...hmm?  
**


	34. Chapter 34

**Yeah! I finally got some brainpower to finish this. This was a fun one to write. This chapter is completely in Clary's POV. There are a few important plot things going on, then some fun violence, and I actually managed to fit in a tiny bit of fluffiness (though nothing big). Loved it! Hope you do too!**

**Chapter Songs:**

_**Disappear**_** by Hoobastank (Scene 1)**

_**Savior**_** by Lights (Scene 2) (Thanks again to Aimee for the song rec. :) )**

_**Work**_** by Jimmy Eat World (Scene 3)**

_**Thinking About You**_** by Puddle of Mudd (Scene 4) (I've been waiting forever to write this scene to this song—so exciting! The first two lines of the lyrics are my FAVORITE and so freaking appropriate!)**

****As always, I own nothing…sigh****

* * *

Clary stood motionless for several minutes in front of the portal before she realized she wasn't alone. Shifting her gaze to the side, she saw Magnus standing just to the right of the opening, his green cat-eyes falling on her in curiosity.

"If you're planning on catapulting yourself through after him, I suggest you tell me now." His ring-clad hand hovered near the edge of the doorway.

"What? Oh, no." She distractedly waved her hand in the air. "Sorry. Go ahead."

"It's no problem, I just didn't want to start and have you get caught up in a closing portal. That really wouldn't be pretty."

She glanced up and smiled weakly. "I'm good. You don't have to worry, my feet are staying planted right here." Although she couldn't deny the unrelenting urge to do exactly what he'd suggested. It would be so easy to do. She could see it all in her mind. The leap forward, the falling through darkness, the landing in a sea of impossible green. Then she would spot him in front of her, and although he'd be mad she didn't listen, he'd smile and take her into his arms, happy she was there, that she was with him.

"Um hmm." He eyed her again as if he somehow knew what she was thinking before turning back to the portal. Clary's cheeks burst into flame and then her chest clenched as her last link to Jace flickered closed in front of her. Magnus turned back to her. "There. My work here is done. Now I can get back to my ever fabulous and exciting life."

Clary looked back to the space where the doorway had been, her heart giving one last painful squeeze, and then returned her gaze to Magnus once again. "How will they get back?"

"Alec will send me a message and I'll open it back up."

"Oh."

Magnus walked cautiously toward her, his gait resembling a cat. His strange eyes narrowed as he stood right before her, his hand partially outstretched as if to touch her. She fought against the urge to pull away as his long fingers wrapped around her upper arm and his eyebrows rose.

"What?" she asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

"It isn't my intention to startle you it's just—" He raised his other hand, a spark of green igniting in the middle of his palm. "May I?"

Her eyes trailed from his to the fire, unsure of what it was he wanted. After a moment, she nodded.

His hand moved to the side of her face, his eyes closing as it neared her ear. Part of her expected to feel heat from the flame, but to her surprise, only the faintest lick of frost lapped at her cheek.

Magnus's brow furrowed as he opened his eyes. "Hmm. Interesting."

"What? What's interesting?"

"I don't know. It's not often one stumps me."

"Stumps you?"

"Yes." His stare bore into hers, in a contradictory lazy yet intense way. "Confuses me. But you—you do. I can't pinpoint exactly what it is. This was not present before when your mother used to bring you to me. It feels—different, powerful."

Clary's eyes widened. "Powerful? How?"

"That, my dear," he lowered his hand to his side, "I cannot tell you. Its secrets are hidden from me." He narrowed his eyes. "But I bet you know what it is."

She raised her brows. "I can tell you with absolute certainty that I have no clue what you're talking about."

"Maybe not consciously, but subconsciously . . ." His gaze blazed into hers once more. "Well, I think you actually know more than you think you do." He raised a long pale finger to tap her temple. "Think about that." With a sly grin, he turned and sauntered toward the front gate, leaving Clary staring open-mouthed and even more confused behind him.

***

Somehow, Clary made it back to her room. After the emotional assault of the past few days, she was surprised she could think let alone walk. When she reached her bed, she collapsed onto it, her eyes closing and her mind shutting down the moment her head hit the pillow. Almost immediately, she was asleep. Unsurprising considering she'd barely slept the night before.

The black nothingness surrounded her, swallowing up her heavy heart and confused thoughts. She welcomed it, wanted it even. For just a little while, she wanted to forget that he was gone, that she didn't know when she'd see him again, and that she apparently held some deep dark secret deep in her subconscious—again.

Suddenly, the black faded leaving her standing on a hill, surrounded by the impossibly green grass she had just moments before dreamed she could see. The glow of the demon towers shone directly ahead, like a beacon of safety calling to her out of the darkness. The dim shine of witchlight lamps lit the sloped streets, illuminating the narrow alleys between the shops and stone homes. The black outline of the woods and hills behind the city ghosted the night sky, giving Clary an odd sense of peace and protection. Although many bad things happened to her while she was there, she couldn't help but think of the one good thing that had.

A rustle off to her left drew her attention away from the beauty of Alicante. Jace sat on the hill next to her, his eyes fixed on the city before them as well. He didn't seem to realize she was there, as his attention seemed absorbed by something not in Clary's line of sight. She forced herself to walk, not run, over to him and sat beside him.

He sat with his legs outstretched in front of him, his hands hovering over his lap, twirling something in his fingers. Clary concentrated on the object, trying to figure out what it was. A bottle, a small bottle filled with a dark liquid. Jace stared down at it, his face fixed into an expression Clary couldn't quite identify. It looked to her as if he were torn about something. But what?

Just as she was about to ask him what he was thinking, his face contorted into a grimace and a small groan escaped his lips. He bent over, clenching his jaw and shutting his eyes tightly. His grip on the bottle increased, his knuckles turning white with strain.

Clary reached out and laid a hand on his shoulder. His body went rigid as he whipped his face around, his eyes large, black and angry. Clary snatched her hand back and looked back at him, fear filling her to almost overflowing. Why was he looking at her like that?

"Jace?"

"Clary." His nostrils flared and his voice came out harsh and strained. "What are you doing here? You shouldn't be here."

"I—" She couldn't mask the hurt in her voice. "I don't know."

"Go, Clary." His breathing increased and he clenched his fists tighter. "You have to go."

"But—"

"Go!" He growled at her, and jumped to his feet, his chest heaving.

Clary stood, preparing her body to flee, but when she tried, she found she couldn't move her legs.

Jace glared at her again and opened his mouth to speak when a shutter ripped through his body. He doubled over and groaned.

Clary reached toward him, wanting more than anything to go to him. "Jace?"

"Go." He tried to exert forcefulness behind the word, but it just cracked in the middle.

"Jace," she spoke through the lump in her throat. "Please. Let me help you. All I want to do is help you. Please."

"No. I don't want," his breath caught and he bit back another groan, "you."

Clary gasped. "What?"

He raised his face, his expression one of pure agony. "Please . . . go." Curling in on himself and dropping back down to the ground, he let out another terrifying moan.

Tears blinded Clary's eyes, and the unmistakable odor of blood filled the night air. The tears fell in torrents down her cheeks, her hearing became muddled as if she was under water, and her nose started running. She lifted her hands, trying to clear the blinding tears from her eyes and wipe the moisture from her nose and cheeks.

Jace's moans grew louder.

When she pulled her hand away, a thick dark liquid dripped from her fingers. Her breath hitched. "Jace, what—"

He rocked back and forth; his eyes clenched shut, holding his knees tight to his chest. "No. No. No. Please. I don't want you. No. No. No."

"Jace!" Clary cried as warm wetness flowed faster from her nose, eyes, and ears. She couldn't understand what was happening until her mouth filled with the taste of iron. Spitting it onto the ground, she lifted her hands again to wipe her face and more of the dripping black liquid fell to the ground. Blood. She was bleeding. She wrenched her face up to Jace's writhing form. "Jace! Please! What's happening? Please! Jace!" Jace's huddled, rocking form started fading into the darkness as her body began jerking back and forth.

"Jace!"

"Clary! For God's sake! Wake up!" Isabelle shook her violently.

"Jace!" Clary shrieked as she bolted upright in bed, her heart slamming against her ribs, a sharp pain splitting through her clenched palm.

Isabelle's hands were cupping Clary's face, her eyes wide and frightened. "Jesus. What was that about?"

Clary couldn't speak and burst into tears. Her body convulsed as Isabelle's arms surrounded her. The pain in her hand increased.

Isabelle pulled back, placing her hands against Clary's shoulders. "It was just a dream. You're okay now."

Clary nodded, struggling to even out her breathing. She glanced down and saw that her fists were clenched tightly. With effort, she pried them open.

Isabelle gasped and jerked Clary's hand toward her. "By the angel, Clary. What the hell were you dreaming about?"

Clary's gaze fell to her open palm and there, peppered through the rune she'd drawn to bind her to Jace, were four bleeding nail marks dug into her flesh. But the pain wasn't localized in the wounds as she would have expected. An excruciating burn followed the lines of the rune as if someone were tracing a hot iron along the mark.

Clary shook her head, more tears falling down her cheeks. "I don't know, Isabelle." She raised her eyes to meet hers. "I don't know."

***

After what Isabelle deemed as Clary's "major freakout", she made the decision that Clary needed to get away from the Institute. Away from all things Shadowhunter related (except herself, of course), and all things that reminded her of Jace. She just needed some time out with another female, someone she could joke around with and just act—girly. At least as girly as Clary and Isabelle could get considering who they both were.

"Shopping, Isabelle?" Clary wrinkled her nose as the two of them walked up the street toward a few of Isabelle's favorite shops. "This is _not_ what I'd consider fun."

"Oh, come on Clary." Isabelle rolled her eyes. "I just need a new pair of boots, and then we can do something else."

Clary lifted one brow. "A new pair of boots? Don't you already have like six pair?"

Isabelle shrugged. "A girl can never have too many pair of kick-ass boots. Besides, they serve a dual purpose. One, they're good in a fight, and two, Simon thinks they're sexy."

Clary doubled over with laughter.

"What?" Isabelle stopped walking and stared at her.

"So now you're doing things because _Simon_ thinks they're sexy?"

"Oh, like you don't do things just because Jace likes them." She narrowed her eyes.

Clary shrugged. "Not really."

"Whatever." She started walking again. "Besides, I like boots, you know they're my thing and all."

"Well, if you really want to do something Simon likes, you should get yourself a gamer tee."

"A what?"

"A gamer tee. You know. A T-shirt gamers wear."

"Clary, I don't even know what a gamer is."

Clary laughed and tugged on Isabelle's arm. "Come on, I'll show you." Holding tight to Isabelle, Clary guided her down a side street where a little shop she and Simon used to frequent was located. She passed in front of a busy biker bar and stood in front of the small, nondescript store. All sorts of gaming specific items hung in the grimy windows.

Isabelle's face screwed up into a disbelieving expression as she stood there on the sidewalk.

Clary chuckled and opened the door, the bell tinkling above. "After you." Clary gestured for Isabelle to come in.

Isabelle gave her a half-scared expression and stepped into the store, her eyes wide with what Clary could only guess to be half intrigue and half disgust.

"God. This place is like my worst nightmare." Isabelle glanced around, almost looking as though she was afraid to touch anything.

Clary rummaged through a nearby rack, finding the perfect shirt. "Here," she pulled it out, "like this." She held up the short, tight fitting black tee. The words Gamer's Girl were etched across the front in bold silver letters.

"You've got to be kidding me?" She snatched the hanger from Clary's outstretched hand.

Clary giggled. "You wouldn't have to wear it out, but I guarantee you if you wear this in front of him, you'll definitely be able to get anything you want from him."

A wicked flicker flashed in Isabelle's eyes. "Really?" she said as she cocked her head to the side, looked up at the ceiling, and tapped her chin with her finger. "Hmm."

Clary smiled and opened her mouth to speak right when her cell phone vibrated in her back pocket. She reached back and pulled it out, peering at the caller ID. Her mother. She sighed and held the phone up before flipping it open. "Hey, Mom." She turned her back as Isabelle waved her hand and took the shirt back to the fitting room. A group of teenagers entered the store laughing loudly and play fighting. Clary pressed her palm over her ear to try to muffle the obnoxious noise. "What?" she asked loudly. "I'm sorry Mom, I can't—hold on, let me go outside. Yeah, I'm shopping with Isabelle and it's kinda loud. Hang on."

She stepped outside the door, the sidewalk was crowded and noisy as well. Walking a few feet away and ducking between the biker bar and store, she was finally out of the teeming crowd.

"Okay, sorry. What was that now? Oh, no I didn't see Luke. He must have already gone through the portal before I got there. Yeah, I'm being careful. We're just hanging—" Clary sighed. "Yes, Mom, we have weapons but it's still daylight so I don't think—no—Mom! I'm fine, okay? Yes, I promise." Clary rolled her eyes and paced the small alley opening. "Yes. Yes. Okay. Yes. Okay, I'll talk to you later. Okay. Bye, Mom." Closing her eyes momentarily, she pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a slow breath. She opened them again and turned to make her way back to the shop but froze at what stood in front of her.

The greasy haired guy from the other night at Pandemonium and a group of equally disgusting men blocked her path. Fear leapt into her throat. She was well prepared with various weapons to fight off demons, but she wasn't quite so prepared to deal with humans.

"Well, what do we have here?" Greasy haired guy smiled, showing off two capped teeth and a space where another had been knocked out. "We meet again, and this time you're all alone. No big bad boyfriend anywhere in sight." He glanced around.

Clary backed up a step only to find herself, flush against the wall of the bar. Silently, she cursed her stupidity of not watching her surroundings more carefully.

"Where do you think you're going?" He stepped closer until his body nearly touched hers.

She leaned further into the wall and turned her face away from his, which hovered only a few inches away. His breath stank of cigarette smoke and alcohol.

"What are you going to do now, princess?" He sneered. "What without lover boy to defend your honor and all. Not that I would be scared anyway."

Clary forced herself to meet his gaze. Anger surged up inside, displacing any fear she had been feeling. It raged to almost a boiling point. She didn't know where it came from, but she wasn't knocking the feeling of power it gave her. Her muscles tensed, readying her for battle. "Maybe you should be."

Greasy haired guy flung his head back and laughed. "Is that another threat, little girl?" He cocked his head to the side. "Didn't we already do this once before? And didn't I already laugh at your pathetic attempts to threaten me? Tell me, why should I be intimidated by a little thing like you?" His eyes raked over her in a way that made her want to gag.

"Just because "lover boy" may not be at my side, doesn't mean he left me unprepared."

He raised one brow. "Oh yeah? How so."

Clary shrugged, surprised at her own confidence. Jace must really have been rubbing off on her. She seemed almost—cocky. "He taught me a few things."

Before Greasy Hair had a chance to react, Clary slammed her heel down onto his foot with all of her strength and twisted. He jumped back in surprise, but not before she grasped him by the shoulders and thrust her knee up—with a force she didn't know she was capable of—into his groin. As he doubled over, grabbing his crotch in pain, she flung her fist forward and upper cut him right under the chin. He fell backward, hit the ground, and moaned as he curled up into himself.

Clary shook her hand, the stinging pain vibrating through her entire arm. When she glanced up, she caught the astonished looks on Greasy Hair's friends faces, and the shocked one on Isabelle's—who had apparently seen the whole altercation.

"Well?" she asked his friends, causing them to stumble back to the bar. Before starting to Isabelle, she spared a glance down at Greasy Hair's writhing form. She bent and spoke with as much venom as she could put into her voice. "Maybe that will teach you once and for all." She nudged him with the toe of her shoe and smiled at the groan it elicited. Stepping over him, she walked over to Isabelle.

"Jesus, Clary." Isabelle's mouth stayed open, her eyes wide with a mixture of horror and astonishment. "What the hell?"

"Unfinished business." She glanced back at him once more. "Hopefully now it's finally finished."

***

Clary glanced at the clock on the nightstand next to her bed. Twelve oh five. She sighed, turning back to the sketchbook in her hand. She'd already tried sleeping but her mind was too full. Too keyed up over putting Greasy Hair in his place, and too distracted from the absence of Jace at the Institute. It just felt so empty without him. Luckily, when she'd returned from her outing with Isabelle, she'd found Jace's t-shirt from the night before stuffed in the corner. She'd pulled it over her head immediately, savoring the scent of him surrounding her. She would have given just about anything to see his face, hear his voice, feel his touch on her skin, and taste his kiss on her lips in that moment. Closing her eyes, she leaned back on the pillow, remembering the events of the night before and this morning. A small smile crept over her lips as the scenes rolled over her mind like a movie playback.

So engrossed in her daydream, she barely heard the popping sound and would have completely missed it if it hadn't been accompanied by a burst of heat. She opened her eyes and glanced at her lap. A small sheet of paper fluttered on top of her sketchpad. Picking it up, she smiled at Jace's scrawled words stretching across the top.

_Are you up?_

Biting her lip and grinning bigger, she lowered the paper to her pad, pulled her knees forward, and wrote back.

_Yeah, can't sleep. Why are you up? Isn't it really early there? _She traced the rune for fire in the lower corner and watched as a flame sparked and traveled up the sheet. She held it until it nearly reached her fingers and then let go, watching the remnants float in the air until all that remained were a few flakes of ash.

After a few moments, another pop sounded and with a flash, the paper appeared again with a new message written under hers.

_Can't sleep either. I was thinking about you._

She smiled and scrawled another message. _Me too, but I found your shirt from the other night. I'm wearing it now._

She sent it back to him and waited anxiously for his answer.

Pop.

_Funny you should say that. I'm wearing your tank top (that I conveniently stole before leaving), it's a little small but dare I say I look pretty damn sexy in it—maybe even better than you._

She giggled, even though she knew he was joking, the image it conjured in her mind was pretty funny. _I wondered where that went. Stealing from the woman you love—that's pretty low. Not to mention ruining it by stuffing your much bigger body into it. That's pretty rude._

_And it's not rude of you to constantly take my clothing, claiming you just want to be wrapped up in me?_

Clary sighed. _I wish I was. I miss you._

_Me too._

_So, how is it going? What did the Clave have to say?_

_Don't know yet. They postponed the meeting. Apparently, my time is worth nothing to them._

Clary scowled. _That sucks. So you could have stayed here longer?_

_Yeah. Believe me, I intend to let them know about my displeasure over the whole thing._

Clary smiled again. _Of course you will. You've never been one to keep your feelings to yourself--except of course when they're positive._

_Enough talk about the Clave. They've taken enough of my valuable time today. Down to more important things . . . what else are you wearing?_

Clary laughed. _Wouldn't you like to know._

_Actually, if you prefer you can tell me what you're _not_ wearing. Either way is fine._

Clary shook her head, a huge grin still stretching across her face._ I love you._

_I love you, too._

_Hurry home._

_I'm trying . . . I'll let you go to sleep now. Wouldn't want to wear you out two nights in a row—at least not like this._

_Okay, I probably should. I actually feel tired now. Goodnight, Jace._

_Goodnight, Clary._

Clary smiled and placed her sketchpad on the nightstand. Yawning, she reached over and flicked off the lamp, nestling herself down into the soft mattress. She tucked the blankets around her and closed her eyes, clutching Jace's note tightly in her hand.

* * *

**Shadowhunter instant messaging…hehehe…I thought that would be fun. Plus, you know me…I just gotta have the fluff, even if it's just a **_**little**_** bit. Plus, I needed a bit of Jace humor to make me happy.**

**Next chapter will be Jace POV, and looking into a bit of what's going on with him in Idris. Reviews make Jace return faster so please leave one! I've gotten quite a few Story Alerts and Favorite Story adds in the last little while. I love it, thank you! But please, leave your comments! They make my day brighter (and for those that care, cause Jace's underwear to appear—or disappear, whichever you prefer—more frequently ;) ). Smooches.**


	35. Chapter 35

**Hmm…this chapter was hard to write…I don't know why. Anyway, no fluff (cries). Lots of Jace angst and anger though…some sarcasm (which we all love). Some more plot stuff…hope you can start piecing it together now!**

**Chapter Songs:**

_**The Scientist**_** by Cold Play (Scene 1)**

_**Kryptonite**_** by 3 Doors Down (Scene 2)**

* * *

Jace raised his arm and rested it behind his head as he lay back on the pillow. A small smile crept over his lips after his conversation with Clary. It felt nice to talk to her again—even if it was just through notes. He'd take what he could get.

As he lay there, the sun began rising. The soft glow of yellow light filtered in through the window of his room there in the Lightwoods acquired house in Idris. He sighed, wishing he could be anywhere but there. Idris did not hold good memories for him—even though it had been his home for half his life. Being there without Clary made those painful times all that more vivid. Somehow, she acted as a shield to all the horrendous acts that had been thrust upon him at Valentine's hand. A barrier separating him from his old life and his new one. One he wanted desperately to escape to.

He rose from the bed and walked over to the window. Dawn touched every surface of Alicante, from the honey-colored stone houses, to the canal snaking through, to the emerald hills in the distance. He wished he could appreciate the beauty stretched out before him. Wished that he could see this place for what it was supposed to be—home, a safe haven for all Shadowhunters. But that felt like a lie to him because his whole life there had been a lie. Only his life in New York had been real. It was there that he was truly Jace. In Idris, some still saw him as Valentine's son. Even though it had been proven that he wasn't. And now, with Stephen's apparent resurrection, he was now—again—the son of a monster.

The stares followed him as he had walked the streets of Alicante. They bore into his flesh, marring him with their judgment. He was tired of wearing his father's sins. Tired of people looking at him and just deciding he had to be no good. That there was no way possible for him to be a good man, a better man than the ones who had bore and raised him. It wasn't in his nature to feel the need to prove himself to others, and he refused to do it now. If they wanted to see him that way then that was up to them. But, they'd be wrong and he'd be lying if he said it didn't bother him. Of course it did. But they would never know that.

Jace turned away from the sprawling landscape outside his window and made his way back to the bed, plopping down on his back once more and staring at the ceiling. The house was completely quiet, letting him know that Alec and Luke were still asleep. He wished he could be too, but it evaded him. The Clave moved their meeting from yesterday until today and the thought of standing before them, trying to explain what Stephen did to him made his blood boil. What exactly was it they wanted to know? Would they try to shove him in a cell beside Stephen just for being his son? Would they assume he was in on everything just like they did when Valentine had returned?

He felt the overwhelming urge to thrust his fist through the wall. He was so tired of everyone assuming to know him. Assuming he was anything but exactly what he was. Only Clary made him feel like the person he really was. She made it okay for him to be imperfect. For him to lose himself in every way possible. And surprisingly, he didn't resent that about her. It was a relief to just let go sometimes. To be the kind of man who could be weak and vulnerable at times and then tough and strong other times. She made that all right.

God, he missed her. So much so that it actually made his chest ache. He'd never realized how much he actually needed her until he was forced to be away from her. More than anything, he wanted to go back to New York, take her in his arms and tell her everything. Everything she'd been begging him to tell her. Everything he needed to tell her. All he was trying to do was protect her. But at what cost? What price was he going to pay for not letting her in? Would he lose himself to whatever it was eating away inside him, all because he was too stubborn to lay it all out there for her to see?

His stomach twisted and he felt a warm drop trickle down over his upper lip. He raised his hand and wiped the back of it across his mouth. A red smear stretched across it.

"Damn." He climbed off the bed, holding his nose pinched between two fingers. His hands shook as he opened the door to the mini fridge Alec had helped him bring into his room. Reaching inside, he grasped one of the small bottles Magnus had given him before he left. He closed his eyes and shook his head, not wanting to do this, not wanting to _be_ this.

He let go of his nose to unscrew the cap and a gush of his own blood poured over his mouth and onto his shirt. Laughing at the absurdity of the fact that in order to stop himself from bleeding to death he had to consume blood, he lifted the bottle to his lips, clenched his eyes tight and tipped his head back, draining the entire thing in one swallow. The liquid warmed his throat even though it was cold, and quenched the growing ache in his abdomen. To his disgust, it didn't even taste bad anymore. In fact, he actually kind of liked it.

At that thought, he gripped the bottle tight in his fist and chugged it against the wall. It hit and splintered into a million tiny shards, sprinkling the floor beneath in a rain of glass.

"That's it," he said to himself. And he stood, ripped off his soiled shirt, and cleaned his face off in the small attached bathroom. Looking at his reflection in the mirror, his determination solidified. "Time to get some answers. It's time to get this over with once and for all."

***

Since the old containment cells had burned during Valentine's attack on Alicante, the Clave had set Stephen up in a make-shift cell—much like the one the Inquisitor had kept Jace in—in a room at the Accords Hall. Jace stood outside the Hall, his eyes resting on the steps where he and Clary had finally given in to their feelings. He wanted this place to remain a good memory, not what it was about to become. Stephen's presence tainted it for him.

He stared up the stairs, pausing at the top where he and Clary had stood. Closing his eyes, he could still picture her, dressed up in Amatis's dress, her cheeks flushed even though it was cool out. The way her soft hand felt pressed against his cheek and how small she'd felt in his arms. The sweet taste of her lips when it was finally okay for him to kiss her and the thrill that went through him at the thought. He smiled at the memory, hoping to keep it at the forefront of his mind as he attempted to get through what he was there to do.

Taking in a deep breath, he continued to the door and pulled it open, stepping into the hall. It looked different from the last time he'd been there. Of course it would, it wasn't filled with grieving families and Downworlders. He continued to the back of the hall where there was a small corridor attached to another intake area. He made his way forward, stopping only when he reached a large wooden desk, much like the one in the Institute library.

A girl, not much older than Jace, peered up at him. Her sapphire blue eyes widened and her mouth dropped open at the sight of him. In his earlier days, he would have gotten a kick out of this reaction to him, but now that he was with Clary, he barely noticed other girls. But in this instance, he decided to play it up because, who knew, maybe it would work to his advantage and make it easier to get in to see Stephen. He flashed her his most winning smile.

Her breath hitched and her cheeks turned a deep shade of red as she tried to hide her embarrassment behind a curtain of deep brown hair. "C—can I help you?"

Jace leaned against the desk and smiled again. "I think you can," he glanced over to the name plate sitting on the top left corner of the desk, "Natalie. I'm here to see someone. Can you direct me to them?"

She smiled shyly and fidgeted with the pen in her hand. "Um . . . sure. Who do you need to see?"

"Well that's the thing." Jace turned his head to scope out the room, and turned back to her, giving her the crooked grin that seemed to melt all the girls he used it on. "I'm pretty sure he's not supposed to have visitors but I really need to see him. It's very important. Can you help me out?"

Natalie's eyes widened again as she nodded her head, shaking her hair until it covered one of her eyes.

Jace bit back a laugh as he leaned over the desk further, resting on his elbows. Time to drive it home. He reached out and swiped a finger under the chunk of hair that covered her eye and tucked it behind her ear. "You know. You're eyes are much too beautiful to cover." He let his finger linger at her ear and trail lightly down the side of her face before moving back again. The girl looked so shocked he didn't even think she was breathing.

"Stephen Herondale. Can you direct me to where he's being held?"

Natalie fumbled at the drawer to her left and held up a visitor's pass, her eyes never leaving Jace's, almost as if she was hypnotized by him. "Take the hall on your right, three doors down on your left. Present this card to the guards outside the door. You'll have fifteen minutes."

He took the pass from her, making sure to make contact with her fingers as he did. He felt her shiver at his touch. "Thanks Natalie." He winked and turned away, chuckling under his breath.

Just as he reached the opening to the hallway, he heard her voice from across the room.

"Excuse me." He cringed, turned, and saw her standing behind her desk, her face still pale and eyes wide. "I—I didn't get your name." Her cheeks brightened once again.

"That's because I didn't give it to you." He smiled and continued down the hall.

At the end, he met two guards. They peered down at him with a sort of contempt he didn't understand. He held up the card to the one on the left. The guard furrowed his brow and snatched the pass from Jace's hand.

He glanced down at it and then raised his gaze to Jace's once more. "No one is supposed to see him. How did you get a pass?"

"I guess I'm just special. Are you going to step aside or am I going to have to force you to move?"

The guard raised a brow. "Cocky aren't we?"

Jace shrugged. "On my good days."

He narrowed his eyes and handed Jace back the card roughly. "Fifteen minutes. No more." And he moved aside to let Jace pass.

Jace paused just before turning the knob and looked back up at the guard. "You know, you should really work on your scary face—if you want to actually have it work. It's really not intimidating at all."

The other guard tried to cover a laugh.

Jace turned to him. "You too Chuckles."

Both guards narrowed their eyes and shot daggers of fire from their eyes at him. Jace smiled. "Much better! But still not quite enough. Keep working on it and I'll be back in fifteen. I'll expect a marked improvement by then." He grinned and twisted the knob, laughing at himself. He loved being an ass. Really he did.

The first thing he noticed when he entered the room was how completely bare it was. There was nothing in there, not even a picture hanging from the wall. All the carpet had been stripped out, leaving only unpainted concrete on the floor. There was no color on the walls and the windows had been bricked over—rather recently it looked to him. The only light came from a single bulb hanging from the ceiling and the glow of Stephen's cell.

Jace walked forward slowly, knowing he needed to get this over with but not wanting to face Stephen again quite so soon. His heart thudded in his chest, only further confusing his feelings. Why did this man affect him so much? He didn't know him any better than a stranger on the subway. If he'd had to face one of them after they'd wronged him, he wouldn't feel like this. Just because this man contributed to his biology did not make him any different from anyone else. At least it shouldn't, but as much as he hated to admit it, it did.

As he approached the pulsing cage, Stephen stirred from his position on the floor. He looked up, a shocked expression engulfing his face. "Son?"

Jace's jaw clenched. "What did I tell you about calling me that?"

Stephen stood and came as close to Jace's position as he could. "I'm sorry. Jace, is it?"

Jace nodded curtly, staring at Stephen as if he were the lowest form of life on earth.

Stephen smiled, obviously not understanding Jace's contempt. "I thought I would never see you again."

"If I had my way, you wouldn't. However, since you've inconvenienced me with whatever it is you injected into me, I have no choice."

Stephen's face brightened. "So it did work? I wondered because of the—"

"If by 'worked' you mean making me purge my own blood then yeah, I guess it worked. Though I can't for the life of me understand how that makes me special in anyway. But hey, it wasn't my screwed up plan to begin with."

Stephen's face fell. "You're rejecting? But . . . but that's not possible. It can't be."

Jace raised his palms to the air. "Apparently, it is."

"But you have my blood, plus extra angel blood. It should have worked. It should have endowed you with all the powers, yet without turning you. You should not be rejecting because of the protection your blood provides. It was in me so it should be in you."

"Maybe you should clarify what you are talking about when you say 'protection.'" Jace crossed his arms over his chest.

Stephen raised his hand to his hair and grabbed a fistful before dropping his hand back to his side. "Herondale blood has always had the ability to stave off things better than others. We've had family members bitten by werewolves and such and they've never turned. As I said, I experimented on myself first and I could not hold the virus. But you—with the extra angel blood—you could hold the gifts without it changing you the way it normally does. You shouldn't be rejecting. Unless . . ." He glanced up at Jace, narrowing his eyes.

"Unless what?"

Stephen studied Jace with scrutiny. "Unless you did something. Something to change your blood in some way?"

Jace thought back to the rune Clary had drawn on both of them. He'd known at the time that it bound them and that she had taken on the assault of his injuries. But, did it physically change his blood? Is that why the serum didn't work the way it should? How could that be? No. It couldn't. It was just a binding rune. Nothing more.

When Jace didn't answer, Stephen nodded his head. "You did, didn't you? Very clever but also very stupid."

"Look who's calling who stupid? If it weren't for your demented ideas on how to 'improve' our race we wouldn't be having this discussion in the first place."

"All of that is neither here nor there." Stephen shook his head. "You need to fix what you've broken."

"How the hell do I do that?"

"I don't know, because I don't know what you did to change your blood."

"I didn't do anything to _change_ my blood." That he knew of. He'd heard of blood bonds before this, but had never heard of one changing the composition of blood. It just couldn't be possible.

"Obviously, you did. Look son—Jace. If you don't fix this, you'll end up much worse than a hybrid. You'll be dead. If you reverse whatever it is you've done, then you will have so much power. So much more potential."

Jace glared at Stephen. "I'd rather be dead than turn into one of those things, or to whatever freak you hoped I'd become."

"You don't mean that. How could you? I can see in the way you hold yourself that you think highly of your life. And you have a girlfriend. Would she not love you if you were changed? Is that what this is about?"

Jace's fists clenched at his side. "Don't talk about her. And you don't know anything about me." There had been many years when Jace hadn't cared whether he lived or died. He'd thrown himself at any demon, against any enemy, not caring in the least whether he made it out alive.

"Maybe not," Stephen said. "But I can see you don't want to give up the life you have now. Figure it out, son. Reverse it. There's nothing else you can do."

The door behind Jace swung open and one of the guards peered in. "Fifteen minutes are up."

Jace turned back to Stephen and glared. "How many times do I have to tell you? ._Not_.."

"You can deny it all you want, Jace." Stephen actually looked sad. "But you are. And there is nothing you can do to change that."

Jace felt the fury building in his body, peaking so quickly he wasn't sure he'd be able to hold it in until he got some place safe to release it. Unable to contain the rage and speak at the same time, Jace pivoted on his heel and strode out the door, leaving Stephen and his glowing cage behind him. Once he cleared the hall, he raced out the doors and down the steps, his eyes fixed on the woods on the other side of the city. Stealing down an alley, he ran, full speed towards the looming forest.

He'd hoped the run alone would expel some of the anger pulsing through his veins, but it didn't. As the trees grew closer, he saw red behind his vision and knew that he was at his breaking point. Pushing his legs as hard as they would go, he reached the forest in no time. His entire body shook with pent up energy. He wanted to hit something, anything. He_ needed_ to hit something.

Turning around, he found the hardest thing he could, a giant oak tree. Without even thinking twice, he threw his fist forward, hitting the tree with every ounce of strength he had in him. A giant chunk of wood flew off and hit another tree twenty yards away. But he wasn't done yet. The rage still overwhelmed him and he knew the only thing that ever calmed him completely was Clary or pain. Since Clary wasn't there, pain would have to do.

For the next several minutes, Jace took his frustration out on the tree. With every punch, and every chunk of wood that flew off, he felt another bone break. Each time the overwhelming anger subsided just a little bit. The pain he felt was nothing compared to the relief of having that anger abate. It was like a disease eating him alive from the inside out. But the pain was welcome, it grounded him, made him feel more human, and more than anything he wanted to feel human. He wanted this monster inside him to leave and never return. He just wanted to be Jace again. Just Jace.

After he was pretty sure he'd shattered just about every bone in his hands he took one last swing, putting every ounce of energy he had left in it, and struck the tree, breaking completely through what was left of the trunk and sending it crashing to the forest floor.

As it fell, so did he, down to his knees, his chest heaving, but lighter somehow. He glanced down at his mangled hands, relishing in the throbbing pain that kept his demons at bay.

He didn't know how long he sat there before finally rising and making his way back to the Lightwood's house. Realizing he couldn't open the door with his hands the way they were, he kicked at the bottom of the door, hoping Alec was home to hear him.

After a moment, the door swung open and Alec's bright blue eyes widened at the sight of Jace. "What did you do to yourself?" He pulled Jace into the house and sat him down on the nearest chair.

"I had a little disagreement with a giant oak," Jace said. "Don't worry, I won."

Alec pulled out his stele and traced an _iratze_ on Jace's wrist. "What did the poor tree ever do to you?"

"It called me fat."

"Seriously, Jace." Alec raised his gaze to Jace's. "What happened?"

"I told you. I tussled with a tree."

"I heard you, but _why_?"

Jace sighed and then winced as he felt his bones beginning to mend themselves. "I went to see Stephen."

Alec's eyes widened. "By yourself? I would have gone with you."

"I didn't want an audience." When he caught the hurt in Alec's eyes, he added. "I needed to do it alone. It wasn't personal."

"When are you going to learn that you don't have to do everything on your own? We're family."

Jace shrugged and leaned back into the chair, his bones almost completely healed and the bloodied flesh beginning to close.

Alec sighed. "So what did he say?"

"Oh, some crap about how I shouldn't be rejecting because of my super special Herondale blood and that I must have done something to change it somehow."

Alec's brows pinched together. "Did you?"

Jace stared at him incredulously. "No. How the hell am I supposed to change my blood? That's just stupid."

"Well, what about the rune Clary drew?"

Jace waved his nearly healed hand in the air. "That was just a blood binding rune. They bind blood not change it."

"Usually, yes. But we both know Clary's runes are not of the normal sort, don't we?"

Jace let out a slow breath and lowered his face into his hands. "Hell."

Alec nodded.

"I've got to get home. The only way I'm going to figure this out is with Clary. If this rune has anything to do with this I'm going to need her help."

"So you're going to tell her—everything?"

Jace raised his head. "Do I have any other choice?"

"No. Not really."

"Okay, so we need to go home."

Alec shook his head. "Not until after we meet with the Clave, and that's not until tonight."

"Hell," Jace repeated.

"Exactly," Alec agreed.

* * *

**Alrighty, a bit more 'insight' on what's going on with Jace. But not all…hehehe. I have to think on how I want to do the next chapter—I'll either go back to Clary first and do another chapter in her POV, or I'll do the Clave first and then go back to Clary…hmm…decisions decisions…**

**And yes, I already know what is going on with Jace and why, and I also know what it will take to save him…so…yeah…**

**Reviews help my though process run smoother… and therefore make me write faster…:D**


	36. Chapter 36

**Sorry for the delay in updating . . . remember in my last preview I said my kids were sick? Yeah, well, Momma got it too and it SUCKED! But, I seem to be better now so…**

**By popular consensus we have the Clave first. Followed by a wee bit of Clary and then . . . well, you'll just have to see. :D**

**Chapter songs:**

_**Whataya Want from Me**_** by Adam Lambert**

_**The Middle**_** by Jimmy Eat World**

****I own nothing****

* * *

Since the old Gard had been destroyed in the fire, a new one had to be built. Jace, Luke, and Alec stood before it, Alec with his hands straight at his sides, Luke with his arms crossed over his chest, and Jace with one hand in his pocket and the other stroking his chin.

"You would've thought they'd maybe go with something a little different—maybe more modern—seeing as the last one burned to the ground," Alec said.

"If it's possible—I think this just may be even more ostentatious than the last one." Jace glanced up at the large swirling gates, carved with runes, and the two stone angels that adorned either side. They looked to him to be the same as the gates from the old Gard. What caught his attention and disgusted him the most was that just inside, flanked alongside the witchlit stone walkway, were a dozen or so stone statues. Each represented an angel in some sort of battle. None conveyed the recent alignment with the four clans of Downworlders. It was as if nothing had changed.

Luke glanced at Jace. "Since when have the Clave ever done anything scaled down?'"

"Very true. I guess it was a bit unrealistic to think that after such a big change like uniting with Downworlders, that they may want to revamp their ideals a bit. Starting with a Gard that didn't look like someone vomited angelic supremacy all over the place."

"Hmm," Luke grumbled. "It's not very surprising, unfortunately. Even with the four seats designated for Downworlders, it seems the Shadowhunters have flaunted their dominance."

Jace strolled forward and pushed open the gates. "Well, no use in postponing the inevitable."

"Wait a second." Luke grabbed Jace's arm. "What are you planning to say?"

Jace glanced down at Luke's hand and then up to his face. "I'm planning to answer their questions."

"Are you going to answer them truthfully?"

He feigned a shocked look. "Why Luke, doubting my integrity already? I'm nothing if not truthful."

Alec snickered. "He really is. To a fault . . . but that doesn't mean he'll tell them everything."

Jace grinned. "I'll answer their questions, and I'll give them the truth. Watch and learn." He walked through the gates onto the witchlit stone path leading to a set of large wooden doors. The building loomed around him, carvings of angels in the middle of battle—identical to the statues lining the path— stood out from the stone walls. None of the Downworlders were depicted anywhere. A fact Jace wouldn't have cared about in the past, but now, he found it a bit annoying. His faith in the Clave had been shattered after the whole ordeal with Valentine. He found them to be too set in their own prejudices to truly accept this new way of doing things. It was not his intent to trust them with any vital information that would put himself, and especially Clary, in their line of sight.

With Luke and Alec following behind, Jace threw open the large doors and stepped inside the entrance hall. It stretched out in front of them, ending at another pair of open, double doors. Jace noticed as Alec straightened his posture and held his head high. He threw him a disgusted look and Alec lowered his face to the floor, seemingly embarrassed at his inability to be a rebel. Jace rolled his eyes and continued toward the doors.

They passed under the doorway into a room—not a room so much as a large auditorium lined with stadium seating. Black robbed figures donned each seat.

"Wow. Don't I feel special," Jace mused. "All this for little ol' me? I'm touched."

"Jace," Luke warned.

"What?"

"Mind yourself here."

Jace rolled his eyes. "I do know how to conduct myself appropriately, Luke."

Before Luke had a chance to answer, two robed members flanked them, and led them silently to the base of the theater. Before them sat a semi-circle of identically robed figures, but these held themselves in a way that let everyone know they were the ones in charge.

As they stepped up to stand in front of the leaders, the one right in the center stood and addressed them. He had a very thin, pointed face—reminding Jace of a fox—short black hair, and green eyes. "Good evening, gentlemen. Our apologies for postponing our meeting yesterday. It could not be helped. I'm Xaviar, the Consul for this new order of the Clave."

Jace, Alec, and Luke nodded.

"I suspect you all know why you are here?"

"Not really," Jace answered truthfully. "But I suppose it has something to do with our encounter with Stephen Herondale."

"Your assumption would be correct." Xaviar's eyes bore into Jace's as if he were looking for some hidden truth. "And by your obvious resemblance, I am to assume you are his son?"

"By biology only. I don't know him any better than I know you."

"I see." Xaviar glanced down at a piece of paper lying in front of him. "So, you don't know your father at all?"

"I believe that's what I said."

"Hmm. Then why is it we have a notation from the secretary at the hall that someone matching your description came just yesterday to visit Mr. Herondale?"

"And what exactly do you mean by 'matching your description?' Tall? Blond? What? I mean, those things could describe any number of people."

"Well," Xaviar actually looked a bit uneasy, "the exact quote we got from her was, 'tall, lean,'" he cleared his throat, "'hair that shone light a thousand beams of sunlight, eyes like pools of melted gold, and a smile that literally turned my brain to mush'—which, by the way, was her reasoning for letting this person through."

"Oh, well, yes, of course that sounds like me. Though a bit dramatic don't you think? I mean, a thousand beams of sunlight? That'd be blindingly bright—" Jace felt Luke's elbow in his side.

The Consul stared down at him without humor. "So you admit you were there?"

"Yes. I was there."

"And do you mind telling us why?"

"Of course not."

"And?"

"I wanted to find out more about the serum."

Xaviar's mouth twitched. "The serum? You mean the one he was trying to develop to give Shadowhunters the abilities of Downworlders?"

"That's the one."

"Why would you want to know about that?"

"Well, he did try to make me a part of it."

"Ah, yes." The Consul turned back to his seat and sat, folding his hands in his lap. "He was hoping to obtain your blood as well."

It was in that instant that Jace realized that the Clave had no idea Stephen had injected him with the serum. He'd assumed that they'd known, but was grateful nonetheless that they didn't.

"Did he succeed?"

"No."

"No?" The Consul raised his brows. "Are you sure about that?"

"Of course I'm sure. He didn't get any of my blood."

The Consul turned his gaze to Luke. "Lucian, you were also there as Mr. Herondale also abducted you and stole your blood?"

"I was."

"Is Mr.—" The Consul's gaze flickered to Jace, unsure as to what to call him.

"You can just call me Jace. It's less confusing that way."

The Consul nodded. "Is Jace being truthful? Did Mr. Herondale fail in obtaining any of his blood?"

"He is. None of his blood was spilled." Luke let out a slow breath. "If you don't mind, could you tell us what it is you needed us to come here for? We could have answered these questions through correspondence."

"We were curious as to why Mr. Herondale needed the blood of the Nephilim—and of this one in particular—as our abilities do not transfer that way. Which of course he knew. So, that must mean there is something specific about this one," he gestured to Jace, "that made him think he could use him to further his experiment. We wanted to meet him and assess him with our own eyes."

"Well," Luke answered. "You are aware of the experiments Valentine did on him."

"Yes, but he was not the only one. There was a girl as well—Valentine's daughter? Clarissa?"

Jace flinched at the mention of her name.

"That's correct," Luke said.

"Yet," the Consul tapped his long white finger on his chin, "he did not attempt to take blood from the girl."

"Well, he did kidnap her."

"But he made no move to take her blood. She was used as a pawn of sorts? In fact, this, Clarissa, she is involved with you, is she not?" His gaze fell on Jace.

Jace clenched his jaw, the anger he held at bay surged up inside him. He took a deep breath before answering. "She is. And no, he didn't. He only wanted mine."

"Do you have any idea why?"

"Have you asked him?"

The Consul narrowed his eyes. "Of course."

"And what did he tell you?"

"Nothing."

"Hmm," Jace said. "Honestly, he didn't reveal much to me, either. He had some strange beliefs that his family's blood was blessed and what with my extra angel blood, well, he thought it would make the serum work."

"Work how?"

"Look." Jace was quickly losing his patience. "I don't know, okay? He was on the quest to make some super warrior or something. He didn't succeed."

The Consul raised his brow. "Are you sure about that?"

"As far as I know, all he created were those hybrid things, and all of them were destroyed."

"Were they?"

"Do you know something we don't?"

"No, but we think you do."

"What? I've told you what I know about his experiments. What more do you want from me?"

"You're his son."

"And?"

"And, if there was anyone who we feel Mr. Herondale would be most likely to share his secrets and successes with it would be his son."

"Oh, I see. So because this man donated a bit of biology to me, I am automatically implicated in his plans?" Jace threw his hands up in the air and took a step back.

Luke placed a hand on Jace's shoulder and turned to the Consul. "So, this is how it is still? Guilty by blood relation? You're going to condemn Jace for his father's wrongs? When you know perfectly well that everyone—including Jace—believed Stephen Herondale to be dead. And you also know, that it was only a short time ago that Jace learned Stephen was his father."

"We seem to remember this boy wavering between his loyalties when it came to the father who raised him as well," Xaviar said pointedly.

Jace opened his mouth to speak when Luke interrupted him. "Is this what you brought us here for? To vilify Jace by association? As I recall, you were wrong the last time you tried this. Didn't he prove without a shadow of a doubt that he knows what is right? He turned his back on Valentine, risking his own life to do it."

"So you say." Xaviar's hard face never wavered.

Jace heard Luke draw in a deep breath. "Are we about done now? If so, we have things to attend to back in New York."

Xaviar stood once more, his eyes intent on Jace. "Not quite yet. We'd like to examine the boy—to try and discern what made him so special to Mr. Herondale." The two robed figures that had met them at the door came to stand on either side of Jace, each reaching for an arm.

Luke stood in front of Jace. "No."

Xaviar raised a black brow. "No? Is there some reason we can't?"

"Yes. First of all, it isn't your right. Jace is a minor and in order for you to do anything like this you must have permission from his parents or guardian. Since his parents are not able to be here, I have taken on that roll and I don't give you permission."

"You're denying us? You do realize that makes us all the more suspicious."

"I don't care. You're not touching him. You've been unfair in all your dealings with him and I won't let you do it again. Why can't you just see that Stephen is insane? He was driven to madness living under Valentine's shadow for so long. Maybe that's all there is to this. Did you ever consider that possibility? Or did you use your old prejudices over the fact that Jace—completely not under his control—was raised by Valentine and believed to be his son up until a few months ago?" Luke narrowed his eyes. "Many of us lived under Valentine, but not all of us turned out evil. Maybe you should think about that before condemning innocent people under that guise."

Xaviar stared back at Luke, his eyes conveying shock at being spoken to in that manner.

Luke cleared his throat. "Now, as I said. If that's all, we have things to attend to back home."

Xaviar narrowed his eyes. "For now. But let me warn you, you can't keep him from us forever. We don't believe that this boy is ordinary. There has been too much interest in him. First with Valentine and now Stephen. Someday, we will obtain the answers we seek." His eyes met Jace's. "By force if necessary."

Luke grabbed Jace by the shoulders and forced him around before he could say something they all would regret. Dozens of eyes followed them as they made their way out of the auditorium and out into the hall. Their stares burned into Jace's flesh.

They made their way quickly out of the Gard, down the walkway and out the gate before anyone spoke.

"That was," Alec groped for the right word, "intense."

"Yes," Luke answered, his eyes intent on the ground.

Jace stopped and turned to Luke. "Look. I appreciate what you said, but you really didn't need to defend me like that. I could have handled it."

Luke's stare met his. "Yes, I believe you could. But, I think it's about time someone stood up for you, don't you?"

For once in his life, with the exception of with Clary, Jace was rendered speechless.

"Now," Luke started walking again, "Let's get out of here. I've just about had it with fresh air."

Jace smiled. "I could definitely use a good dose of pollution right now." He turned to Alec. "Get your warlock on the line. It's time to go home."

***

Stopping Isabelle's jab in mid air, Clary grabbed her and flipped her over her head, landing her on her back on the mat.

"God, Clary. Where is all this coming from? You can't be that frustrated. It's only been two days."

Clary reached down and took Isabelle's hand, helping her back to a standing position. Once she was upright, both girls donned a fighting stance once more. Isabelle struck out with a kick to Clary's side, which she blocked effectively. "I don't know. It's not that—well, not entirely." She sent a jab Isabelle's way. Isabelle blocked it easily and sent another in Clary's direction, this time landing it smack on Clary's cheek. Clary returned it, catching Isabelle on the chin. "It's more—well, I can't really explain it." Isabelle kicked out. Clary grabbed her foot and spun it around, landing Isabelle on her back once more and pinning her to the mat with her knee. She sat down beside her and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand.

Isabelle raised herself up on her elbows, a bruise beginning to form on her cheekbone. "Try."

Clary blew out an exasperated breath and stared at the wall on the opposite side of the training room. "Well, ever since this binding rune," she absently opened her palm, "sometimes I feel stuff Jace feels. And, I think he must have gotten really mad or something because ever since last night I've been feeling angry. Almost like I can't control it. It kind of scares me."

"Huh," Isabelle said as she chewed on her lower lip and stared at the same random spot on the wall.

Clary turned to her. "Huh, what?"

Isabelle met her eye. "Doesn't that get annoying?"

"It would if it happened all the time. But it's only if the feelings are really intense. Like when he gets really angry, or when I get really scared. But—I don't know . . . it seems like he's angry a lot more lately. It kind of worries me."

Isabelle raised her hand to Clary's shoulder. "Jace was always kind of a hothead, Clary."

"I know," Clary studied the rune on her palm once more, tracing the lines with her finger, "but this is different. It's almost like he can't control it himself and it's getting worse."

"Okay." Isabelle stood, smoothed her hands over her workout shorts, and held a hand out to Clary. "We're going out."

Clary reached up and tentatively took Isabelle's hand. "Where are we going?"

"First of all, we're going to Taki's because I'm literally about to die of hunger. Then—well, we'll see. We need to get out of here. You need to get your mind off Jace and this freaky connection you two have 'cause it's seriously weird."

Clary laughed. "Yeah, okay." She really did need to think about something else. Training and fighting just made her think of Jace more and the aggression that she was getting through their bond grew the more she concentrated on it. She held out her arms as if she were about to be shackled. "Take me away. I'm your prisioner."

Isabelle's eyes widened and glinted with mischief. "Oh you are so going to regret saying that to me." She grabbed Clary's arms and led her out of the training room.

***

Clary grumbled at the ridiculous outfit Isabelle had squeezed her into. The tight black top barely came to her waist and the slim fitting skirt clung to her hips, reaching only to the upper portion of her thighs. Her hair hung in wide, silky ringlets cascading over her shoulders and down her back. The thigh high boots dug into her flesh, making her wish she'd never told Isabelle she could have free reign over her wardrobe, hair, and make up that night.

"I look like an idiot."

Isabelle glared at her. "No, you don't. You look hot."

"What do I care about looking hot? There's no one here to look hot for."

Isabelle came to stand behind her and stared at Clary's reflection with her. "Because sometimes it's just good to look hot for yourself." She grabbed Clary's hand. "Now come on. The night is young and so are we."

Clary sighed as Isabelle pulled her out into the hallway, to the elevator, and out the Institute gates. They walked in silence until they reached Taki's. The restaurant stood virtually empty. Only a few warlocks sat at the bar, and a vampire couple occupied another booth. The same waitress they always had, Kaelie, worked the tables. Clary wondered if she ever had a night off.

"So what are you getting?" Isabelle looked over the menu.

Clary smiled and put hers down. "Sweet potato fries."

Isabelle glanced up and rolled her eyes before sticking her nose back in the menu. "Please. You're so pathetic."

Clary laughed and took a long draw on her soda. She stared out the window, watching the people who passed by, completely oblivious to the strange world around them. Suddenly, she caught the glow of a pair of very familiar cat-like eyes and the sparkle of sequins. The eyes met hers and a sly grin stretched over his face. "Hey. There's Magnus."

Isabelle looked up from her menu just as Magnus motioned with his head for them to come.

"Wonder what he wants," Isabelle said as she got up from her seat, Clary following close behind."

Both girls made their way outside, following the glimmering reflection of Magnus's vest as he led them to the nearby alley.

"Hey Magnus. What's up?" Isabelle asked.

Magnus's gaze fell on Clary. His eyes followed her outfit from head to toe. "Very nice."

"See." Isabelle elbowed Clary. "Even Magnus appreciates my work."

Clary rolled her eyes. "Did you want us for something?" She met Magnus's stare again.

"Oh, not really. Just thought you might like to know I've just opened a portal."

Clary raised her brows, not really understanding why she should care. "Okay?"

Magnus let out a slow sigh. "A portal. At the Institute. Just thought you'd like to know."

Clary stood there for another moment before the significance of what he'd said finally clicked. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. "Oh!"

"There we go," Magnus said.

"Oh!" she said again and spun to face Isabelle.

Isabelle rolled her eyes and waved her hand in the air. "Yeah, yeah. Go. Not that I can hope to compete anyway."

Clary grinned and spun toward the opening of the alley before stopping and turning back to Isabelle. "Izzy," she paused, "thanks for everything. You've been great these last couple of days. Really."

Isabelle smiled. "Yeah, I know. Now quit stalling and go get your man."

Clary's face lit up once more as she turned again and ran.

* * *

**Okay, so the Clave still sucks. But now…yeah, we all know what's coming. I just need to get my fluff hat on and let it all pour out…;) Reviews make the fluffiness grow larger and more flufftastic! :D **

**Oh, and did I mention that I love Luke? Yeah, I do. Jace does deserve someone to stand up for him, and well, I like Luke so...  
**


	37. Chapter 37

**Fluffing fluffericly flufftastic fluff!**

**Chapter Song:**

_**Feels Like Home**_** by Chantal Kreviazuk (A throw back to my Dawson's Creek days…oh, how I loved that show!)**

****I own nothing…except…well, you get the picture. ;) )**

* * *

Never in her life had the elevator moved so slowly. The only good thing about it was that it allowed her a few moments to gather herself and catch her breath. For the second time that night, she regretted allowing Isabelle to make her over. She hadn't been expecting to see Jace and while she was sure he'd appreciate the look, she was also pretty positive he wouldn't like anyone else seeing her in it. Plus, she felt uncomfortable. She'd rather look like herself, but not even that could force her to wait a second longer to see him.

As soon as the doors slid open, she raced into the hall and down to his door. With a shaking hand, she knocked lightly. She waited a few seconds and knocked again. No answer. Scowling, she twisted the knob and peered inside.

"Jace?" The room was empty. There was no sign he'd even been there, except for the faint moisture hanging in the air that indicated someone had recently taken a shower.

Clary exited his room and turned back down the hall toward hers. Looking inside, she knew immediately he wasn't there. Her room stood exactly as it had when she'd left earlier. With a frustrated sigh, she turned back to the corridor, her mind searching and her eyes wandering. "Where are you?" she asked no one in particular.

Deciding to check the library, she walked back in the direction of Jace's room. Once she'd passed his door and was almost to the entrance to the library, she heard it. The soft sound of music coming from further down the hall. Her chest clenched and her heart sped as she realized what it was. The piano. She swallowed hard and continued toward the music.

When she finally reached the music room, the door was open. She stepped over the threshold and there he was. He sat on the bench, dressed in only a light t-shirt and jeans, his long fingers stroking the keys with grace. His eyes were closed and his head was cocked slightly to the side. The soft glow of the fire in the fireplace illuminated only the half of his face closest to her position with a flickering, warm light, the other was shrouded in shadows. His hair was still damp and curling tighter than normal from the moisture. As much as she wanted to run to him, to crush him to her, another part of her just wanted to watch. The look on his face was one of pure peace—one he didn't often show. She could only remember seeing it in the times she was awarded the pleasure of watching him sleep.

Moving further into the room, she was careful to keep her steps quiet as to not alert him to her presence—not yet. She wasn't through just watching him yet. Wasn't ready to have that expression removed from his face. Her breathing quickened the closer she got, the anticipation of that moment when he would notice her, reach out to her, kiss her, was almost more than she could stand. But yet, she drew it out, knowing it would only be that much sweeter when it happened. Just as she was within a foot of him, his shoulders tensed and his fingers stilled on the keys.

"Don't stop," she said as she moved even closer, leaving only inches between them. The tingling heat that always sparked when she was near him came relentlessly, causing her body to tremble. "You don't play enough. I wish you would more. I've always wanted to learn to play like that."

His fingers began moving again, slower than before. The melody was one of longing, need, and maybe even a touch of sadness. "Why didn't you then?" The sound of his voice sent jolts of longing through her, making it almost impossible not to touch him. But still, she wanted this. Wanted to listen to him, watch him.

"I don't know. Not disciplined enough, I guess."

"It's never too late to learn."

She smiled. "No, I suppose not."

"Would you like to know what it feels like to play?"

"Yes," she said.

"Put your hands on mine, and I'll show you."

Her heart thudded harder. "Really?"

"Really."

Clary took another small step forward until her body was flush against his back. She closed her eyes as his warmth flooded through her, and the electricity that once only surrounded them—inside the spaces between them that their bodies did not inhabit—now engulfed her, bringing every sensation to the most intense it could be. Her trembling hands touched his shoulders lightly and slid down his arms, her fingers tracing the lines of every muscle, every scar, until they rested on top of his.

"Now, close your eyes." His breath cascaded over her cheek causing her to shudder involuntarily.

She did as he said and shut her eyes. His fingers moved underneath hers. She felt the strength and skill behind them. The confidence in which they traveled across the keys and the sounds they caused to fill the air surrounding them. Her breathing increased as she stood there, leaning over him, her hands on top of his, their cheeks touching. She felt him turn slightly and she shivered when his nose traced the length of her jaw.

"I missed you," he whispered.

Clary let out a deep sigh. "I missed you, too."

"Please," he breathed into her ear, "please tell me I can stop because I don't think I can stand another second of not kissing you."

Her breath hitched. "God, yes."

The music stopped abruptly and she turned her face to meet his. Their lips met with the most innocent softness. It was barely even a brush, but that was all it took for her body to melt into him. Her breath came out in a shuddering gush as if she'd been holding it since the moment he'd left. She felt as his body shifted, turning completely around so he faced her, his knees knocking hers. As she situated herself between his legs, his hands came up, cupping her cheeks and hers made their way to the back of his neck. Heat spread from the point in which he touched her throughout her entire being as he pulled her tighter to him, crushing their mouths together. An involuntary moan escaped from her lips as the taste of him filled her to overflowing. She thought she'd remembered everything about how he felt, how he looked, how he smelled, and how he tasted, but the reality was so much better than the memory.

Too soon, he pulled away, his hands still on her face and his eyes intent on hers. It was almost painful to stare into them. Slowly, he stood in front of her, her head tilting upward to keep her gaze on his.

"How is it possible that, in the span of two short days, you've managed to grow even more beautiful?" His thumbs brushed along her cheekbones.

Clary rolled her eyes and glanced down at her outfit. "Isabelle."

Jace's gaze never wavered from hers. "I wasn't talking about the clothes, or hair, or make up—which we will be discussing before the night is over. Just you. The only thing I see is you. And you," he leaned forward and touched his lips gently to hers, "are infinitely more beautiful," he kissed her again, "stunning," and again, "perfect."

"What did I tell you about sweet talking me?" Her voice came out uneven and breathy.

He smiled. "That I was exceptional at it and that you love it."

"No. I believe I said it wasn't fair."

He brought her face forward and brushed his lips back and forth across hers. "And I believe I showed you exactly how equal we are in our affect on each other."

Clary closed her eyes and her lips parted slightly. "Maybe I need a reminder."

She felt Jace smile against her mouth. "I was hoping you'd say that."

His hands left her cheeks and trailed down her neck, then her shoulders until they snaked around her back, pulling her even tighter against him. She hooked her arms up under his and held onto his shoulders. His lips left hers and brushed along her cheek until he tucked his face up against her neck and just held her. She closed her eyes and relished in the moment of having him close again, having his arms wrapped around her, and feeling his heart beating against her.

"Was it really only two days? It feels like so much longer," she said.

"Umm hmm. Just two days." He turned his face to plant a small kiss at the base of her neck.

This time she pulled back, running her hands down his back and reaching forward to grasp his hand. She took it between both of hers. Looking down, she held it in one of hers and traced the lines of his palm with her finger. "I missed your hands." She raised it to her lips, closed her eyes and brushed her mouth along his knuckles. Opening them again, she lowered his hand back to his side and reached up to lay both of hers on his face, her fingers moving along his jaw and cheek bones. "I missed your face." Her thumb moved to brush his perfect mouth. "I missed your lips." She lowered her hands, allowing her fingers to trail slowly behind, dragging along his neck and shoulders to his chest. He closed his eyes briefly to the sensation. "I missed . . ." Her voice caught. "Everything," she whispered.

Clary stepped forward, burying her face in his chest and running her hands up under his shirt, splaying her fingers across his sides. "God, I missed this so much." She breathed in deeply, letting his scent flood her with him.

His hand came up and knotted in her hair as his face lowered to her head, his lips brushing against her. "Me too."

So lost in Jace, Clary didn't even realize they'd moved until she heard the click of the door closing and the snap of the locked being turned into place. She glanced up into Jace's smiling face.

"Now we won't be disturbed."

She smiled and grabbed his hands, leading him to the rug in front of the fireplace. Pulling him down with her, they sank to their knees, their eyes never leaving each others. Their bodies lined up perfectly as they knelt there, the fire crackling and sending off heat in their direction. Clary untwined her fingers from his and moved up his arms keeping her touch light and smooth, her eyes following their progress until she stopped at his shoulders.

"You know, as much as I thought I remembered what it felt like to be with you, to touch you, I never had it quite right. It was never good enough." She raised her gaze to his. His eyes burned with not only the reflection of the flames from the fireplace, but also the ones that lived inside him. "Part of me wonders if I'm just dreaming and you're still gone. I'm afraid to touch you too much because if I do you might disappear and I'll wake up without you."

Jace reached over and took her hand in his, raising it to his lips and kissing her palm. "I'm right here, Clary. Touch me. I won't disappear."

Something snapped inside of her and she could no longer resist the urge to wrap herself up in him. She threw her arms around his neck, twisted her fists into his nearly dry hair and pulled him roughly to her. His lips were willing and eager as they opened against hers, allowing her access to him. She took advantage and held nothing back, pressing herself as tightly as she could against him, wanting to feel every inch of his body against hers.

"Please," she whimpered against his mouth.

"What do you want, Clary? I'll give you anything you want."

"You . . . I just . . . want . . .you," she said between kisses, "always . . . you."

"You have me . . . none of me . . . some of me . . . all of me. Forever. I'm yours." His kisses slowed on her lips as his fingers brushed the hair away from her cheek.

Clary leaned her forehead against his, her eyes closed and her breath coming quick. "Mine," she whispered almost in a questioning tone.

"Yours," he whispered back.

She tilted her chin up and caught his upper lip between hers, flicking her tongue out to taste him once more. "Mine," she said with more confidence.

He smiled against her lips and opened his mouth wider to her assault. Drowning herself in his essence, she barely noticed her own hands clawing at his shirt until they parted to pull it over his head. Her hands dropped instantly to his chest, greedily touching every inch and knowing that in doing so she was claiming them as her own. Before she knew it, her own shirt was gone and her skirt, thankfully having a full zipper down the side, was fluttering loose to the floor.

Jace's lips left hers for a moment to assess what she was still wearing. She heard him swear under his breath, "Damn Isabelle," but it wasn't an angry curse. More an exclamation of awe as he no doubt let his eyes wander over the black lace bra and matching cheekies. His fingers ran lightly over the wide strap against her hip before his lips attacked hers once more. She'd have to remember to thank Isabelle later for the underthings.

Reaching forward, she made quick work of the snap and zipper of his jeans, skillfully pushing them off his hips. Somehow, he managed to slip completely out of them without standing. His hands were everywhere, in her hair, on her back, tracing lines across her stomach, digging into her hips as he pulled her closer. Her body erupted in goosebumps as relentless tremors shot through her at his touch. She'd never felt so warm or so wanted in her entire life. With trembling hands, she lowered them to the zipper on the side of her boot. She pulled against the teeth and was almost to her knee when it got hung up. Pausing for a moment, she yanked it back up a few inches and tried again. No movement. A frustrated cry escaped her lips as she tried again. No luck.

"Damn Isabelle!" she reiterated Jace's earlier sentiment but without the awestruck inflection as she desperately pulled on the zipper.

She felt his lips split into a grin against her mouth as his hand found hers and stilled its frantic tugging. "Let me," he said.

Reluctantly, she removed her hand and let his take her place. He moved a little lower on her leg until his hand cupped the underside of her knee and pulled her leg up, stretching it straight in front of her. Gripping the zipper, he pulled gently, dragging it easily down the length of her leg, ending at her ankle. When he reached the bottom, he slipped his hand inside and loosened the boot from her foot, tossing it behind him once she was free of it. Wrapping his fingers once more around her ankle, he slid his hand up to her knee, grasping it again and tucking her leg back the way it was. He repeated the action with her other leg, this time starting at her hip and sliding down her outer thigh before extending her leg out. As he slipped the second boot off her foot, he bent and ran his lips up her outer thigh, his hands meeting them at the edge of her hip. They followed the curve of her body until he reached the bottom of her bra. His hands ghosted over her stomach and chest until he reached her neck.

Clary met his eyes as his fingers traced just below her ear and made their way up into her hair. A stray curl had made its way free from his tangle of hair and lay haphazardly across his forehead. She reached over and moved it gently away, leaving her hand lingering at his temple.

"I'm home, Clary," he said.

She smiled. "You're home."

Running her fingers through the soft curls just above his ears, she leaned forward and took his lips with hers once more, content to never leave this moment for the rest of her life.

* * *

**Yay! Jace is home!!! I missed him. Oh, how I missed him…Hope you enjoyed this portion of their reunion!**

**Several of you have commented on how you think I should have broken this up into two stores, and maybe I should have. But, I do have reasons for not doing so, and even though it is quickly reaching the length of 2 novels instead of one (hehe) I still don't plan to separate them.**

**I have been loving your comments and your music suggestions. I listen to every single one!! As I've said numerous times, music is integral to me. It's like the fuel behind my genius (if you can call it that, LOL). For example, last night I plugged the song for this chapter in, leaned back, closed my eyes, and let it play over and over as the scene formed in my mind. That's how it works for me, so I am beyond grateful for suggestions. Sometimes your songs inspire a scene and if I can remember who gave me the suggestion I will give you a shout out!**


	38. Chapter 38

**Thank you to all the readers and all the people who have added this story to their favorites and alerts! It makes me feel all warm and fluffy inside. :D Keep them and the reviews coming…they really do make my day!**

**I apologize for the delay in posting…but I've been busy with some very exciting things!! I hope you enjoyed the fluff—a bit more here and then some…other stuff to lead further into what's going on with Jace. Enjoy (and review!!)**

**Chapter Songs:**

_**Kiss Me**_** by Sixpence None the Richer**

_**Bittersweet Symphony**_** by The Verve **

* * *

After pulling Jace's t-shirt over her head, Clary crawled around on the floor, searching for the rest of her clothing. She had gathered all but the elusive pair of black lace cheekies. Good thing Jace's shirt came almost to her knees. Frustrated, she let out a huff of air.

Jace cleared his throat. "Looking for these?"

Clary turned to see him, sitting on the floor, dressed in only his jeans, twirling the panties around one finger. She crawled over to him, placed her hands on either side of his legs, and reached out to take them from him. Just as she was about to grab them, he snatched his hand back and held it out of reach.

"Hmm, I think I'm going to keep these."

Clary sighed. "Give them to me, Jace."

He smiled. "What's the magic word?"

"Now."

He furrowed his brow. "No, I don't think that's it."

"Why do you always have to be such a tease?"

He grinned. "Because I'm insanely good at it."

"Could your ego be any bigger?"

He feigned a hurt expression. "Of course it could. I'm not even really trying. Oh, how you insult me!"

Clary couldn't hold back a laugh any longer. "Fine. You win. Please?"

Jace shook his head. "Not good enough anymore."

Clary frowned. "I already said please, what more do you want to say?"

"Maybe," he leaned forward and brushed his nose against hers, "I don't want you to _say _anything."

Clary grinned and closed the distance between them, kissing him lightly before pulling away.

"There, was that so hard?" He handed her back the panties.

She scowled at him, slipped the underwear back on, and turned around, leaning her back against his chest. "You could have just asked me to kiss you."

"Where's the fun in that?"

"It's not always about what's fun. Maybe just the fact that we can communicate clearly and precisely would be a good thing."

Jace's arms tightened around her. "Sometimes words are overrated."

She turned and cocked her head up to look at him. He bent and placed a small kiss on the end of her nose. Smiling, she lifted her chin to kiss him again. "I guess," she said before turning to face out once more.

"So." Jace reached forward and plucked the miniskirt out of Clary's hand. "Just what was this all about and whose eyes do I have to gouge out for looking?"

Clary groaned. "I made the mistake of telling Isabelle she could have free reign over my wardrobe last night. Believe me, no one regrets it more than me."

"Hmm." He placed the skirt back in her hands. "It was pretty nice actually."

"You liked it?"

"Clary, I am a man remember? Of course I like clothing that covers almost nothing. But, do I like other people seeing you in stuff like that—hmm, not so much."

Clary glanced back up again. "Jealous?"

"Excessively."

She smiled. "Good."

He raised his brows. "Good? You like me being jealous?"

"Hell yes I do! What, are you kidding?"

"Why?"

Clary shrugged. "It's not fair for me to be the only one."

"You're jealous?"

"Constantly."

"Again the million dollar question—why?"

"Are you serious?"

"Don't I look serious?"

She rolled her eyes. "Are you gonna make me say it?"

A smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. "Say what?"

Clary whipped around, straddled his lap, and slung her arms around his neck. "You're such an ass—and I'm not going to say it."

He chuckled and brushed aside a strand of hair that had fallen over her cheek. "It's okay. You don't have to say it, I already know."

"Oh yeah? What do you already know?"

He shrugged. "I'm hot."

Clary flung her head back and laughed. "God, your narcissism knows no bounds."

He laughed with her. "Glad I could amuse you. Apparently my comedic side is adequately developed as well."

Clary laughed harder, tears coming to her eyes. When she could finally catch her breath, she grabbed his face between her hands. "Promise me you'll never stop being a conceited ass."

He raised his hand palm out. "You have my word that I will never deviate from my current state of assyness."

She brushed her thumbs along his cheeks. "What am I going to do with you?"

He raised his brows. "I can think of a few things."

Clary shook her head and her gaze fell on the rune etched over his palm. She sighed and dropped her hands from his face, grabbing his hand and tracing the lines on the inside of it. "So," she kept her eyes down, "what did the Clave say?"

Jace flipped his hand over and laced his fingers through hers. "Oh, you know. Same old crap they always say."

She raised her eyes to meet his. "And that is . . ."

He chewed on the inside of his lower lip for a moment. "It was just like before. My father is evil, therefore I must be and I must be in on all his plans."

Clary's eyes widened. "They did not say that."

"They did. Luckily, Luke was there to back me up."

"Luke?"

Jace nodded. "Yep. He told them where to stick it and we left."

Clary frowned. "They just let you leave? They didn't try to stop you or anything?"

"Nope." He popped his lips on the "p."

"That's . . . strange."

"No kidding."

"Why do you think they just let you go?"

He shrugged and tightened his hold on Clary. "I don't know, but I'm not going to waste my time wondering why the Clave does what they do. I swear they're growing more and more insane as time passes."

Clary sighed and then her stomach made a loud growling noise.

Jace laughed. "I was just thinking the same thing. I'm starving." He shifted behind her and drew himself up, helping her at the same time.

"Okay. Just let me throw this stuff in my room and get some pants—I wouldn't want anyone catching me like this."

He chuckled and nodded his head. "I'll meet you in the kitchen."

She stood up on tip-toes, kissed him quickly, and spun around to the door. Jace's laugh followed her all the way down the hall to her room. Once inside, she tossed the clothing into the corner with a roll of her eyes and grabbed a pair of yoga pants. Slipping them on, she made her way back out the door and jogged down to the kitchen. Jace had already set out sandwich stuff, apples, and soda.

He grinned when she breezed through the door. "That was fast."

She nodded. "I'm a bit reluctant to leave you for too long—still not positive you won't disappear."

Jace dropped the bread he'd been holding and leaned over the island, brushing his fingers along her cheek. "I'm sorry."

Clary leaned into his hand. "You don't need to be sorry." She sighed and turned slightly, brushing her lips against his fingers. "So," she turned back to face him, "what are we making."

"Um." He lowered his hand and glanced down at the various items in front of him. Several different types of sliced cheeses, lunch meats, lettuce, bread, and condiments. "Sandwiches?"

Clary laughed. "What can I do?"

He held up two apples and a knife. "You want to cut these?"

"Okay." She smiled.

He handed them to her along with a plastic cutting board. Sitting on the stool, she pulled them in front of her and started peeling. They worked in silence for a moment, him assembling sandwiches and her peeling and slicing the apples.

"So," She finished removing the peel of one apple and placed it on the cutting board to cut. "Did you get to see Stephen while you were there?" Jace sighed at the same time Clary brought the knife down, slicing through her thumb. "Ow!" She instinctively shook her hand, blood dripping from the wound and juice from the apple stinging inside it.

Jace grabbed a nearby towel and reached forward, bringing her hand close to him to inspect the wound.

"It's okay, I don't think its deep—Jace?"

He stood absolutely still and all color drained from his face. A line formed between his brows as his hand began to shake.

"Jace?" Clary whispered, her heart hammering in her chest.

His face contorted into a grimace and he dropped her hand, slamming both of his palms down on the island before lowering his head. She heard his breath hitch as he curled inward on himself, a small groan escaping his lips.

"Jace what's going on?" She jumped down off her stool and started to make her way around the island to him when the kitchen door opened and Alec walked in.

"Hey guys, what's—" His face fell when he spied Jace, standing across from them, his head hanging and body trembling.

Clary started forward again only to have Jace hold his hand out to stop her. "Alec—," his breath hitched again and his face screwed up in pain, "get her—out. I don't—want—her—," his body spasmed and he fell to his knees, bending over and touching his forehead to the floor.

"What—?" Clary jerked forward only to find Alec's hand on her shoulder, pulling her toward the doorway. "Alec! Let me go!" Her eyes found Jace again, still doubled over and moaning." "Alec—"

Alec wrapped his arms around Clary's waist, lifted her up, and carried her out the door. Clary struggled against his grip, shouting at him to let her go. He set her down a few feet from the kitchen door, gripped her shoulders, and met her frantic eyes. "Listen to me. He's going to be fine but he doesn't want you to see this so please, do us all a favor and respect that, okay?"

"Alec, what the hell is going on?" Her voice trembled with fear and anger.

"Clary, just let me help him and he'll tell you, okay?"

She wanted to argue, to yell at him, slap him, anything. But sensing the seriousness of his words, she nodded in defeat.

Alec lowered his hands from her shoulders and raised his brows. "Stay."

She nodded again and watched him run to Jace's room, disappear inside, and reemerge a few seconds later. He blew past her into the kitchen, letting the door slam shut behind him.

Clary raised her hands to her eyes and slid down the wall, her fear and confusion emptying out of her in streams of salty tears.

***

The second the scent of her blood hit him it started. The disabling, excruciating pain. It began just behind his navel, twisting and tightening his organs into perfect knots. He groaned at the realization of what was happening. This was not the way he'd hoped to tell her, not the way he wanted her to know about what was really happening to him. He'd planned to tell her everything—that night in fact—but this wasn't the way it had played out in his mind.

Another flash of pain shot through him. He slammed his hands down and clenched his eyes cut, realizing that he was groaning audibly. Clary jumped down from her stool and attempted to come to him. The last thing he wanted was her near him at that moment. He didn't want her to see this! Behind her, he noticed the door open and Alec step into the room. Relief flooded through him just as another jolt gripped him. He held his hand up to ward her off.

"Alec—get her—out. I don't—want—her—" Another pain ripped through him, this time sending him to his knees. He heard Clary protesting Alec, but knew he could and would handle it. Finally she was gone, and he let go, falling over onto his side, clutching his stomach and laying his cheek against the cold marble tile. He tried breathing slowly but nothing seemed to help lessen the pain. Where was Alec?

Just as the thought crossed his mind, the kitchen door flew open and Alec knelt in front of him. "Jesus, Jace. Here." He held two of the tiny bottles in front of him.

Jace took one, guzzled its contents and then quickly took the other, draining it as well. After a moment, his muscles unclenched and he could finally take a deep breath. He lay there for another moment before sitting up. His body felt mostly normal again. Glancing up at Alec, he said, "Thanks."

Alec's eyes were wide and he shook his head. "You obviously haven't told her yet."

Jace stood and leaned against the counter, his legs still slightly weak. "I was going to. I just haven't gotten around to it yet."

"Yeah, well. Times up. You didn't see her face—and she's getting stronger—nearly ripped my arms off trying to get to you."

Jace grinned.

"Yeah, laugh it up. This isn't going to be pretty."

Jace's smile faded.

"Uh huh. That's what I thought." Alec placed one hand on the door. "Tell her—everything."

Jace closed his eyes and nodded. He didn't open them again until he heard the door open. Clary stood there, her hand tentatively on the handle, her face three shades lighter than normal. He gave her a small smile and gestured for her to come in and sit back on her stool. Her eyes never left his as she made her way back to the opposite side of the island.

He sat across from her and let out a slow breath, not knowing how to begin.

"Jace," her voice wavered with uncertainty, "what's going on?"

He raised his gaze to meet hers. Tears gleamed in her eyes. He shut his briefly before answering. "Do you know what rejecting means?"

She shook her head, her eyes wide.

He bit his lower lip. "It's a term they use when a vampire fledgling doesn't take well to the change."

Her brows furrowed but she still said nothing.

"Well," he placed his hands flat against the island, "when that happens, their body convulses and purges itself of its own blood. Sort of like it's trying to cleanse itself of the virus."

"So . . . is . . . is that . . ."

He nodded. "Sort of."

She let out a shuttering breath and closed her eyes, allowing the tears that had accumulated in them to fall silently over her cheeks. "What do we do to fix it?"

Jace sighed and looked down at his hands. "Normally, consuming blood helps . . ." He glanced up and caught her horrified expression before she smoothed it over.

"But . . ." she hedged.

He shook his head, closing his eyes. "But it only seems to be a temporary fix."

Clary closed her eyes again as a moan burst through her lips. She lowered her head to the table in front of her, her body shaking with sobs. Jace rose from his stool, walked around the island, and sat in the one next to her. He reached out and pulled her onto his lap, cupping her tear streaked face in his hands. Leaning his forehead against hers, he closed his eyes.

"I'm sorry. I should have told you. I just—I wanted to know exactly what was happening first. I'm so sorry, Clary."

She raised her gaze to his. "So this is what you've been hiding from me?"

"Yes. I'm sorry." He lowered his face.

She placed her hands on both his cheeks and lifted until their eyes met once more. "Why? Why is this happening?"

"I don't know. I did get to see Stephen and he was adamant that it shouldn't be happening. He—he says—" Jace took a deep breath. "He says I must have changed my blood somehow."

"What? How—" Her eyes widened as realization struck her. "The rune?"

Jace shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe."

"Oh my God." She lowered her face to her hands. "So while trying to save you I've now managed to kill you?" She moaned.

He grabbed her face once more and held it close to his. "No. We don't know that, Clary."

"What else could it be?" she cried.

Jace didn't answer. He had no ideas other than that.

"What are we going to do?" she whispered. Her tears falling onto Jace's cheeks.

He let out a slow breath, his fingers trailing through her tangled locks. "I don't know. I just don't know."

* * *

**Okie dokie then. Inundate me with reviews please…I need some cheering up right now…**


	39. Chapter 39

**For whatever reason this chapter did not come so easily for me. The first part did but not the second…sigh…maybe because it's a transition scene. I don't know. But, it's done and I hope you enjoy it!**

**For those of you hoping for fluff…sorry, there's angst but not really fluff. Things are hard for Clary and Jace right now and while I'll try to sneak some fluff in, it may be pretty angsty for a bit. You criers may need a tissue or two here…:)**

**Chapter Songs:**

**_Better_ by Matthew Mayfield (Scene 1) (Another song NOT on playlist…grrrr. I've added a link in my profile though)**

**_**Amazing lyrics in this song**_**

_With your eyes on my secrets,  
God knows what you'll see  
there's so much to my story,  
but you're the perfect ending_

_I haven't found what you're looking for  
I haven't found what you need  
but don't think what you're after is  
more than I can be_

**_Crawling in the Dark_ by Hoobastank (Scene 2)**

****You got it, I don't own it****

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Sleep alluded Clary that night. No matter how tired she felt, she could not get her eyes to close. She lay on her side, her knees slightly bent, and her hands tucked against her chest. Jace lay beside her, on his side as well. He seemed to have no problem falling asleep. He'd asked her if she wanted him to go, but of course she couldn't let him. She needed him next to her, right where she could see him, touch him if she needed to. The things he'd told her, the things she'd seen, were more than she could handle. She prided herself on being strong; after all, she had dealt with a lot over the past months. But this—this was more than she could take.

Her gaze swept over Jace's face. Pale streams of blue moonlight stretched across the room from the open window, illuminating his every feature. A few stray curls lay over his forehead, partially covering the silver scar at his temple. At that moment, he truly did look like an angel. His breathing was slow and steady, proving he was deeply asleep.

Clary's eyes stung with tears as she watched him. All she'd wanted—all she'd ever wanted was to protect him. To save him like he had her. But in trying to save him, she'd hurt him—and she didn't even know how. What had the rune done? It worked to keep his body from absorbing the viruses and transforming him, but now his body was rejecting it, like he had none of the immunity Stephen had talked about the Herondale blood possessing.

She closed her eyes briefly, allowing the tears to spill over her cheeks, dampening the pillow beneath her. Reaching out, she lightly ran her finger across his forehead, moving the curls back into place. Jace didn't move. She allowed her fingers to linger at his temple and then carefully trace the lines of his face down under his eye, brushing the thick lashes that lay against his cheek. Following his cheekbone back, she then ran her fingertips along his jaw. Her breath hitched causing her to jerk slightly so she withdrew her hand so as to not wake him.

The pain in her chest built to an almost unbearable level and the tears fell steadier. Her hand found his on the sheet between them. Lifting it carefully, she brought it up to her face, running her lips along his knuckles before placing his palm against her cheek. The contact with his skin caused a tremor to shoot through her. She took in a shuttering breath. Knowing her control was slipping, she placed his hand back on the bed and got up as quietly as she could.

She made her way to the bathroom, not bothering to turn on the light, and shut the door. Her back hit the wall and uncontrollable tremors shook her body. Sliding down to the floor, she lowered her face to her knees. Gasping sobs erupted out of her with such force she could barely breathe. She felt as though her heart were being ripped from her chest and her lungs squeezed in a vise. The overwhelming grief over what could happen trapped her under an immovable weight.

So consumed by pain, she didn't hear the door open. She wouldn't have even known he was there if he hadn't reached out to her.

"Clary," he said.

She lifted her head, tears blinding her. She blinked them away, but the sobs still spewed from her. Her chest hurt so badly but nothing she did stopped the relentless weeping.

He brushed the hair back from her face, leaving his hands against her cheeks. Leaning forward, he pressed his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. "Please, don't cry."

She reached forward and gripped his face just as he held hers. Her fingers twisted into the hair behind his ears, holding him as tight to her as she could. Almost as if she was afraid if she didn't he'd somehow disappear. "I—I—I'm s—sorry. I'm s—sorry."

He sighed. "You don't need to be sorry, Clary."

"Y—yes, I—I d—do."

He shook his head.

She let out a few more shaking sobs before taking a deep breath. "P—please." She pressed her lips hard against his, clenching her eyes shut and allowing more tears to fall over her cheeks and his. "Please don't leave me," she pleaded. "Please don't leave me, Jace. I need you." Her breath hitched. "I _need_ you. Please—don't—leave."

She covered his mouth with hers once more, desperate to keep him as close as possible. Between each kiss and gasp of breath she said, "I—I can't—breathe—with—without you. I can't—breathe." Flinging her arms around his neck and burying her face into his shoulder, she cried, harder and deeper than she ever had before.

Jace pulled her tight against him and swept one arm under her legs, lifting her from the cold, hard floor. Holding her close to his chest, he carried her back to the room and set her down gently on the bed. He crawled in next to her and immediately encased her once again in his arms. "I'm not going anywhere, Clary."

She pressed her face into his skin. "You—you can't know. You can't—"

"I do know." He pressed his lips to her head, trailing his hand through her hair and along her back. "I didn't fight so long and so hard to let something like this separate us. I won't let it. We'll figure this out."

"Please don't leave me," she whispered as she reached up and wrapped her arm up around his head, pulling him tighter against her. "Please."

"I won't." His breath brushed over her shoulder just before his lips followed the same trail. "Whatever it takes, I won't. I promise."

Another set of sobs broke free as Clary molded herself against Jace's body, holding onto him as if her life depended on it. Which, in her mind and heart, did.

***

"Okay, so I only have one rule before we start." Alec stood across from Jace, a long bladed sword in each hand.

Jace rolled his eyes, shifting his weight from foot to foot as his fingers tightened around his own swords. "Rules, Alec? Really? You know I don't play well when you enforce guidelines on me."

"You have a bit of an unfair advantage at the moment, and, well I'm not really feeling the need to break more bones than necessary today."

"You've always been at a disadvantage when pitted against me. I can't help it if I'm superior in every way to everyone." Jace smirked.

"Funny." Alec narrowed his eyes. "Just—keep an eye on that super strength, okay?"

"Fine. Anymore rules or suggestions coach?"

Alec scowled and set his fighting stance. Jace followed suit and within seconds, the space between them was a blur of glinting metal. The clang of the blades as they struck each other reverberated throughout the space.

Alec lunged forward and Jace reacted by twisting his sword around Alec's, coming out the dominant. "So," Alec asked, "how did Clary take it?"

"How do you think she took it?" Jace crossed his blades in front of his chest, blocking Alec's shot and then shoving against them, causing Alec to stumble back.

"That bad, huh?" He twirled his knife and plunged it forward, barely missing Jace's forearm.

Jace raised his brows in response before swinging forward once more, clipping Alec on the wrist causing him to drop his sword.

"Ow!" Alec gripped his arm, a line of blood bubbled from the wound and ran down his hand.

Jace stared at him. Alec glanced up, his eyes wide and fearful.

"It's fine. I don't feel anything," Jace said with relief. Maybe the night before was a fluke and it wasn't Clary's blood that had set off his episode.

At that moment, Isabelle shoved her way into the room dressed completely in black, her long coat floating around her feet. "Are you guys about done? I want to get to Pandemonium earlier tonight. Deal with the demon scum so I can get back to my life."

"Hunting is your life, Isabelle," Alec said while fumbling for the stele in his pocket. Unfortunately, Jace had cut his dominant hand and he couldn't trace the rune properly with his other.

Jace sighed and stepped forward, plucking the stele from Alec's hand. Alec moved back a step, his eyes on Jace's. "As much as I know it would thrill you to have me bite you, I'm afraid your blood just isn't calling to me." He raised his gaze to Alec's, watching as his face softened. "I'm not actually turning into a bloodsucker you know."

"I know," Alec said. "But—well, you still drink blood."

Jace finished the_ iratze_ on Alec's wrist and rolled his eyes. "Only to keep my own blood where it's supposed to be. It's not like I crave it or anything."

"What about last night."

"I don't really think it had anything to do with her blood." Though he didn't really know if he believed that completely or not. He wanted, more than anything, to believe his own words. To believe it was a fluke and that his body would have succumb to an episode whether or not Clary had bled all over the cutting board. But not even he could deny that it had felt different. Something about it had been different.

Shaking his head, he stepped away from Alec and turned to Isabelle. "Where's Clary?"

Isabelle stared at her fingernails. "She just finished up a test with Mom and went to get ready."

"She's coming?"

Isabelle scowled at him. "Of course she is, Jace. She gets to come on all our routine sweeps now, remember?"

"Yes. I happen to have a fantastic memory thank you very much. What I meant was, she seemed tired and I didn't know if she'd opted to sit this one out is all."

She laughed. "Yeah, right. She's excited to go out tonight."

"Really?" Jace raised his brows.

"Really." She grinned. "And wait until you see what she's wearing."

"What?" Jace took a cautious step toward the door.

Isabelle laughed. "Well, she's going to look pretty good. She is the bait after all."

"What?" Jace continued toward the door. "Um, no, I don't think so."

Isabelle stretched her arm across the doorframe, blocking his exit. He turned his head slowly and met her stare. "You have to let her experience it all, Jace. If you don't she won't ever learn."

He glanced at her arm. "I suggest you move this before I rip it off."

Isabelle narrowed her eyes and removed her arm. "Don't be an ass. You'll make her feel bad."

Jace pushed past her and started down the hall. Just as he reached his door, he saw Clary's open and the flash of her red hair as she stepped out. He breathed a sigh of relief as he took in her outfit. Tight, fitted pants, a long sleeved sheer top layered over another body hugging long sleeved shirt, boots and a jacket.

"What?" she asked as she came closer and noticed the look of relief on his face.

"Nothing. I was just dreading the outfit you may be sporting when Isabelle said you were playing bait tonight."

She laughed. "What did you think I was going to wear?"

"I don't know, but probably something that showed off a lot more of your legs than I want anyone but me looking at."

"Oh you mean like that bandaid Isabelle gave me claiming it was a skirt? Yeah, no thanks." She ran her hands over the fabric covering her hips. "I figure skin tight is as good as it gets tonight. What do you think?" She raised a brow.

He reached forward and pulled her against him. Leaning down, he placed a small kiss against her waiting lips. "You know what I think. But I am relieved you're at least covered."

"For now." She pulled away and winked. "You better hurry up and get ready." Turning away from him, she exaggerated the sway in her hips.

"That's not fair you know." He watched her make her way down the hall.

She looked over her shoulder meeting his eye. "No one said life is fair." Blowing him a kiss, she turned back and giggled.

Jace smiled and shook his head before disappearing into his room.

Thirty minutes later, Jace stood against the wall at Pandemonium, his arms crossed over his chest, as unsuspecting people gyrated to the booming music before him. He and Alec donned invisibility tonight, while the girls played the floor. It wasn't something he was thrilled about so his eyes rarely left Clary and her position on the dance floor. A couple times, a few clueless humans tried to grind up next to her. Luckily for them, Jace had no choice but to stand in the background, reacting only in dangerous situations. If he'd been visible, there would have been a few guys missing some very sacred parts. Even then, Alec had had to remind him to not react a few times.

The night was starting to feel like a total let down until Isabelle snared a Blucon demon in her web. Alec trailed behind her as Jace stayed behind, his eyes glued to Clary. Feeling antsy, he swept the room once looking for anything out of the ordinary. That's when he spotted her. If he hadn't taken a second look, he may have missed her glamour. She smiled at him and beckoned him forward with a twig-like finger. Her shimmering pink hair hung to her waist, and her eyes—the color of violets and absent of a pupil—assessed him carefully. He glanced quickly at Clary once more before making his way toward the faerie.

When he reached her, he turned and leaned against the counter, both so he could keep an eye on Clary and so he could see the faerie. "You beckoned me?"

"Are you the angel boy?"

Jace sighed. "I really wish you all would come up for a more masculine name."

If she'd had any eyebrows she would have raised one. "Feeling emasculated?"

"No. It's just not a very appealing name."

She grinned, her smile showing off teeth filed to a point.

"So, what is it you want?"

She followed Jace's gaze to Clary dancing in the middle of the dance floor. "The Queen has asked that I deliver a message to the angel boy."

"And?"

She returned her gaze to his. The absence of a pupil was both fascinating and eerie. "You have not confirmed you are he."

Jace rolled his eyes. "Fine. I'm he. Now what is the message?"

"She said to tell you. 'Do not resist. It holds the key.'"

Jace stared at her expectantly. "That's it? 'Don't resist?'"

The faerie nodded and turned to study the dancing mundanes once more.

"Don't resist what? And what holds what key?"

"I do not know. That was the whole message. Oh, except for one other point."

Jace raised his brows and widened his eyes while he waited.

The faerie turned her full gaze on him once more. "She said not to bother coming to her to ask what this means. She has told you all she knows with this message."

"Oh, that's helpful. What am I supposed to do with that?"

"It is not our job to interpret, Shadowhunter. In fact, we have been quite generous giving you this information at all." With that, she turned and glided toward the door.

In that moment, Alec strode up to him. "Easy kill. Isabelle had him dusted before I even got there." He sounded slightly disappointed.

Jace continued to stare out onto the dance floor, his mind occupied with the Queen's warning.

"Earth to Jace. Hey, where are you?"

Jace turned to Alec. "What?"

"What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing. Just a little distracted. I'm fine."

If only he could figure out what the Queen's message meant. _Do not resist. It holds the key. _What was it he was not supposed to resist and what did it hold the key to? From across the room, Clary caught his eye and smiled. He grinned back and watched as she continued to sway on the floor. He needed to figure this out. Why had the Queen had sent him that message and what the hell did it all mean?

* * *

**Like I said, transition scene. Still giving you some info for future happenings but a transition no matter what way you dice it.**

**Thank you guys so much for all your awesome reviews and song suggestions! A couple people commented that this story has the most reviews of MI fanfics? I don't know if that's true or not but regardless, you guys are amazing so keep it up!!**

**A couple of you have commented with your favorite Jace lines from this story. Do any of the rest of you have one? I'd love to hear it if you do! I pride myself on trying to figure out what Jace might say…it's harder than you think! LOL! Anyway, review review review!!!**

***********Oh, and just so you know.....the next chapter is going to rock your freaking socks!!! But I'm holding it ransom for more reviews. Yeah, I'm just mean like that.....soooo, let's get to 650 shall we? Or if we hit even more...well...we'll see...;)***********************  
**


	40. Chapter 40

**Woo! I like this chapter, LOL! A LOT! That said, keep an open mind here people…we all know Jace has some really funky stuff happening inside him that he can't exactly control at all times. I'm playing with some things here so, yeah…some of you may not like it, and that's okay, but it's my vision for this story so…**

**Chapter Songs:**

_**Paralyzer**_** by Finger Eleven (Scene 1)**

_**Addicted**_** by Saving Abel (Scene 2)**

_**War in Your Bedroom**_** by A Change of Pace (Scene 2)**

*****I own nothing but plot and interpretation*****

**Okay, so as you all can see by the song choices we're gonna get a little…um…yeah...;)**

**Oh, and as you can see...I'm posting this BEFORE you all hit 650 (only 10 away but still)...because I'm nice that way, but, yeah...if I wasn't so excited/nervous about this chapter I would have made you wait!!! Now don't let me down and review away...please! :);):D:P  
**

* * *

Clary's gaze moved over the sinuous faerie, watching as she leaned closer to Jace. Her empty violet eyes raking over his body the way most females did. Just because Clary was used to it, didn't mean she liked it. She followed the faerie's gleaming pink hair all the way to the door before she turned back to Jace. He stood absolutely still for a few moments, a look of confusion etched across his face. Alec joined him shortly after, but Jace's expression never wavered. Clary wondered what the faerie had said to cause this reaction in him. Finally, she caught his eye and smiled. He returned the gesture before sweeping the room once more.

Closing her eyes momentarily, Clary tried to remove the thoughts of Jace from her mind and concentrate on the room. As she swayed to the music, her eyes traveled over the people surrounding her, some of them mundanes oblivious to everything around them, others Downworlders, and there, near the edge of the crowd, a demon. A small smirk crossed her lips as she swiveled her hips until she faced Jace again. Catching his eye, she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, nodded almost imperceptibly, and winked.

Jace stood straighter, his eyes moving over the crowd before they returned to hers, a small line appearing between his brows. Keeping up her dancing charade, she slid her hands up her sides and into her hair, cocking her head in the direction of the demon and pointing once her hands were hidden from everyone's view but his. Jace nodded and Clary smiled, turning her back to him and lowering herself into a squat before rising, her behind coming up first. Swaying her hips, she ran her hands up into her hair once more. Her eyes met Jace's again. He bit back a smile and scrunched his nose at her performance. She giggled, confirmed by the look in his eyes that he knew it was all for him. Winking one last time, she turned her attention to the demon dancing on the outskirts of the circle.

For all intents and purposes he looked human—at least as far as any mundanes were concerned. His wavy dark-brown hair hung disheveled and messy to just below his ears and his black eyes roamed greedily over the gyrating bodies surrounding him. He dressed in a pair of faded jeans with frayed slashes through the knees and thighs. A button down white shirt lay open at the top, revealing a tone chest. But to Clary, his true identity couldn't be hidden with any glamour. Sharp fangs and pointed ears shone through his fake facade. His eyes glowed a dark burgundy and a forked tongue flicked out from between his lips every so often.

"So, what do we have?" Isabelle's voice came from beside Clary.

Clary rotated and continued dancing. "At the edge of the crowd, ten o'clock."

Isabelle's eyes turned in the demon's direction. "Ew. Draineers are so gross."

Clary laughed. "Aren't all demons gross?"

Isabelle rolled her eyes. "Some are grosser than others. Trust me." Her gaze shifted to the guys standing watch and waiting for their signal. "I see you have Jace's attention already."

Clary giggled. "Yes, I alerted him a few minutes ago."

Isabelle smirked. "Uh huh. So we should do this, yeah?"

"Oh yeah."

Together, the girls twirled through the crowd, pausing only once they'd planted themselves right in the line of sight of the Draineer demon. Clary rotated once more, making sure Jace still had her in his sights. He did.

Clary held back, letting Isabelle take the lead in bating the demon. She didn't mind helping to gain his attention, but wasn't entirely comfortable luring on her own. Plus she knew Jace would throw a fit if she did. And she really didn't feel like fighting with him right now. Unfortunately, the Draineer's gaze locked on hers as a large sneer stretched over his face causing a shiver to crawl up her spine. Reigning in her fear, she smiled back shyly and continued dancing with Isabelle.

Turning her face from him, she whispered to Isabelle over the music. "Okay, he won't stop staring at me now."

Isabelle cursed under her breath—or just too low for Clary to hear over the music—either way her words didn't register. "Hell, he's coming over here. Play it cool."

"What?" Clary hissed just as she felt a tap on her shoulder. Her body stiffened as she turned toward it. Forcing herself to smile, she looked up into the menacing red eyes.

"Care to dance?" He grinned, his fangs even sharper looking up close.

Clary swallowed hard and fought to maintain her composure. She was never supposed to come face-to-face with any demon—not yet. Not in a position as bait. She was only to help locate them and get their attention, Isabelle was supposed to lure them away. "Um . . ." She backed up in the direction of the back room. No matter how unhappy Jace would be over this turn of events, she knew that she needed to get this demon back there so they could get rid of him. "I don't know . . ."

The Draineer raised his brows. "Playing hard to get? I like that." He reached out to grab her waist, but Clary dodged his hand, still backing out of the crowd. In order to encourage him to follow she let out a nervous giggle, hoping her fear didn't spoil her shy girl pretense.

Once they were free of the crowd, Clary spied Isabelle trailing a little ways behind them, her eyes on Clary. Isabelle nodded in encouragement, the gesture calming Clary minutely. She didn't see the guys, but knew they were there, knew they were watching. Jace was going to be so mad. Both she and Isabelle had promised that Clary would only act as a lookout, she would not, under any circumstances, lead. But what could she do? This demon's eyes were glued to her. He didn't even seem to notice Isabelle.

Knowing that she had no choice and would just have to endure Jace's wrath, she twisted her lips up into a seductive smile. The demon's eyes flashed and his forked tongue flicked out, tracing his bottom lip. Clary fought back the urge to gag and beckoned him with her finger before turning and gliding toward the supply room. Glancing over her shoulder, she caught his eye and winked. His smile grew wider.

When Clary reached the supply room, she took a deep breath and wrenched open the door, throwing herself inside. She heard the Draineer as he entered the room, his breathing quick and hungry. Closing her eyes for a brief instant, she whipped around to face him, feeling the hardness of the dagger stashed in her boot. His smile was impossibly big and his eyes glowed in the dim room. Backing up further, she yelped as her back hit one of the posts in the center of the room. The Draineer stepped closer to her and reached out to drag his finger across her cheek.

At that moment, Clary heard two distinct thuds, one just behind her, and one in front of her and behind the Draineer. The demon looked up, his mouth dropping open and his eyes widening, his hand freezing just before touching her flesh.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Jace's voice came from behind her.

A hiss escaped from between the Draineer's lips. "Shadowhunters."

Jace stepped up beside Clary, his long fingers wrapping around her wrist and pulling her behind him before he smiled. "Surprised?"

The demon's eyes flicked between Clary and Jace before landing on Clary's face. "You are a Shadowhunter, too? I never would have guessed."

Clary bent down, retrieved her dagger from inside her boot and stood, pushing the sleeves of her shirt back to reveal the newly applied runes burned into her skin. "Yeah well, you seem to be pretty imperceptive to fall for the oldest trick there is."

He raised a brow. "You don't look much like a Shadowhunter."

"Yeah, well, you don't look much like a human."

He smiled. "Touché."

Jace placed the end of his finger against the tip of his knife and swiveled it in a bored way. "So are we done with the idle chitchat and ready to get on with this?"

The demon turned his eyes on Jace. "Impatient and a little cocky are we?"

"Yes, well, being better in every way kind of makes one intolerant of those beneath him. It is sometimes a burden but I somehow handle it."

Alec snickered, causing the demon to whip around, noticing for the first time that Jace and Clary weren't the only ones there with him.

"Oh, did I forget to mention the rest of our party?" Jace asked. "Please excuse my omission, but I thought it only fair since you felt the need to hide behind a glamour. A lie for a lie?"

"Four Shadowhunters . . . and all for me? I must say, I'm flattered."

Jace flashed a grin. "Don't be. We're just bored."

The Draineer's smiled faded.

Isabelle rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. "Jace, can we get on with it? They're playing my favorite song."

Jace sighed and directed his attention back to the demon. "And you said I was impatient." Shifting his gaze to Isabelle, he waved his hand toward the Draineer in a "have at it" motion.

Isabelle grinned and struck out with her whip, wrapping it masterfully around the demon's torso, causing him to fall to his knees.

Jace met Alec's eyes. "Alec?"

"Nah. I'm not in the mood anymore."

He turned to Clary and raised his brows. "No thanks," she said. Demon killing was not the rush to her it was to him.

Jace grinned. "Oh, well. I guess that leaves me." He knelt down in front of the demon and twirled his blade in his hand, pursing his lips and narrowing his eyes. "I'm feeling giving tonight so I'll let you pick where you want it. The heart," he touched the knife's tip to the Draineer's chest, "or the head," he tapped the demon's temple, "it's up to you."

The Draineer narrowed his eyes in return. "Does it really matter?"

"No," Jace shook his head, "not really." With one last twirl of the blade, he plunged it forward into the demon's heart.

As the demon folded up onto itself, and Isabelle's whip coiled back around her wrist, Jace stood and resheathed his knife. Clary stepped up next to him just as his eyes snapped to Isabelle's. "Would you like to tell me what the hell that was?"

Isabelle held her hands up. "Hey, it's not my fault. I was right there. It wanted her."

Jace took a step toward her. "I don't care what it wanted. You promised."

"Yeah, and we did the best we could, Jace," Isabelle continued. "You're just going to have to face the fact that Clary is a Shadowhunter and sometimes she's going to be the bait."

A flush of anger washed over Clary. "Can you both stop arguing over me like I'm not standing right here?"

Both Jace and Isabelle turned to her.

"I'm not some mute that can't speak for myself." She turned to Jace. "I know you worry about me, but Isabelle's right." She raised her hand to quiet him when he opened his mouth to speak. "I am a Shadowhunter, Jace. And the sooner you accept that the sooner we can get past all this."

Jace narrowed his eyes and took a step toward her. "Accept that? You expect me to just accept the fact that my girlfriend is going to act as a sexy lure for demons?"

She stared him down. "You accept if for Isabelle."

"Yeah," Isabelle said in the background.

Jace closed his eyes and let out a slow breath. "That's different."

"Oh really?" Clary stepped closer until her face was within inches of his. "How so? You can't tell me you made her wait months and months to lure demons for you."

Isabelle snickered and Alec said, "She's got you there, Jace."

Jace whipped around. "You two, out." He pointed to the door.

"Aww, hell. It was just getting good, too," Isabelle said before letting out a huff of air. "Whatever. We don't want to be subjected to your lover's spat and subsequent make up anyway."

"Come on." She gestured to Alec and both of them filed out the door.

Jace turned back to Clary, his eyes closed and the bridge of his nose pinched between his thumb and middle finger. "Clary, do you have any idea how much I hate this?"

"Yes, actually I do." She crossed her arms over her chest and glared up at him as he opened his eyes. "Do you think it's any easier for me to watch? For me to see you fight and lure 'she-demons' back here? Well, it's not. But both of us are going to have to suck it up."

"Clary—" He reached for her.

"No, Jace." She pushed his hands away. "We're Shadowhunters, both of us. It's time we both just accepted that. This is who we are, this is our life. It's dangerous and it sucks, but that's the hand we've been dealt."

He chewed on his lip for a moment before turning away. "Fine."

Clary raised her brows. "Fine? Fine? That's all you have to say? Fine?"

He furrowed his brow and looked back at her. "What else do you want me to say? Yippee? Hurray? I'm so happy about this? Well, sorry to disappoint but you're never going to get that out of me. Fine will have to do."

"Arg! You're so infuriating!" Clary shoved past him and stomped toward the door.

Jace grabbed her arm. "Where are you going?"

She whipped around and ripped her arm from his grasp. "Home."

"Wait. Just wait a sec—"

"No. I don't want to wait. I want to go. I'm tired. I'm angry and I just want to _go_."

"Dammit Clary will you just _listen?_"

"No! I don't want to listen. I'm tired of—"

Clary didn't get a chance to finish her thought as Jace reached out and pulled her forward, crushing his lips to hers. No matter how angry she was at him, she wanted to kiss him more. Reaching up she twisted her hands in his hair, pulling it harder than normal, letting him know he wasn't forgiven quite yet.

He pulled back. "Oh, so that's how you want to play, huh?"

She narrowed her eyes and yanked on his hair once more.

"Okay then," he said as he bent at the knee and scooped her up, throwing her over his shoulder.

"Jace!" She pounded on his back. "Put me down!"

"Nope." He pushed open the back door, stepping out into the alley behind Pandemonium.

"Jace Lightwood, put me down _right now_, or—"

"Or what?" he challenged.

"Or . . . or . . ." She could not seem to think of a single good reason. "Dammit."

Jace's voice was smug. "That's what I thought." He tightened his grip on her legs and took off down the alley.

***

Jace didn't put Clary down the whole way back to the Institute. She gave up banging against his back about three blocks from Pandemonium. Once they were in the elevator, she decided to ask him again.

"Will you put me down now?"

"Are you still mad at me?"

"Yes."

"Then no."

She huffed, and jabbed her elbow into his back, resting her chin on it. The elevator doors slid open and Jace stalked out, his stride long and quick.

"Jace what are you doing?" Clary asked as he stopped in front of her door.

He opened the door, stepped inside and kicked it shut, not bothering to turn on the light. Dropping her down to her feet, he pushed her hard against the door. She gasped in surprise as his mouth crashed to hers. His body pressed against her, holding her firmly in place.

Breaking away, he asked, "Are you still mad?"

"Yes," she said, and shoved against his chest, but her breathless voice gave her away.

He wrapped his long fingers around her wrists and pulled her arms above her head, securing them in one hand. His other trailed down her side and grabbed at her hip, pulling her roughly against him, his grip harder than normal. She gasped in both surprise and pleasure at the way he touched her. Normally he stayed so careful and gentle, it excited her to have him give in a bit more.

"Still?" His voice was low and rough.

She bit her lip and nodded.

His eyes bored into hers before he leaned forward and ran his tongue along her lower lip until she released it, opening her mouth slightly to let him in. Instead of kissing her, he sucked her lip into his mouth and gently closed his teeth around it, pulling away slowly as they scraped along it. Clary fought to hold back the moan threatening to escape, refusing to let him know how much he was affecting her.

"Now?" he practically growled at her.

She steadied herself and stared right in his eyes. "Yes."

His hand released hers and fell to her other hip, his fingers forming a vise around her pelvis. "Dammit, Clary. I'm sorry."

She narrowed her eyes. "You're _not_ forgiven."

His lips twitched, a smile fighting to be let loose, but instead he slammed her against the door once more, pinning her between it and his body. "Sooner or later you're going to forgive me."

Her body vibrated with excitement, loving that he wasn't treating her like a fragile little doll for once. Against her will, a small whimper escaped from her lips. A grin quirked up one corner of his mouth when he heard it.

"Told ya," he said.

Clary reached forward and grabbed two fistfuls of his hair, pulling his face to within millimeters of hers. "This does _not_ mean you're forgiven." She crushed her lips to his, immediately opening them to him.

His fingers dug into her, pulling at her flesh, begging for her to come closer. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pressed herself as tight as she could against him. He reached up and twisted his fist into her shirt, tugging forcefully and tearing the fabric from her. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew Isabelle would probably be mad, but at that moment, she couldn't care less.

She wrapped her own hands into his shirt, wishing she had the strength to tear it from him as he had her. As if he could read her mind, he reached up and gripped his shirt at the collar. A loud rip pierced the air as the fabric split over his chest. That time Clary couldn't suppress the moan. The strength he displayed, and the fact that he could control it enough to not hurt her was enough to drive her insane. She wanted his lips and his hands everywhere, not sparing a single inch of her body.

Clary grabbed his shoulders, digging her fingers into his flesh. His hands ran down her thighs and around back, lifting her effortlessly onto his hips. She wrapped her legs around him, squeezing as hard as she could. Again, he crushed her against the door, moving his hands up to her face, pulling it down to his. His mouth opened against hers, his tongue forcing its way in and his teeth nipping at her lips. She couldn't keep up with all the sensations he was causing to rock through her so she just allowed him to work his magic over her.

His lips moved over her cheek, finding her ear, sucking it in and nibbling on her lobe. Clary's body trembled with relentless chills as his breath fanned over her neck and shoulder. She tried to return the favor by moving her face to him, but he pushed her back, continuing to assault her neck with his mouth. Giving in, she laid her head against his, allowing him to do what he wanted with her. Her body went limp in his arms as he held her pinned. His lips slid along her collarbone, his tongue and teeth leaving trails of fire in their wake.

One of Jace's arms snaked around her back, holding her tightly against him while the other slid up her spine, cupping the base of her neck. His kisses grew more frantic, tugging against her flesh and leaving her skin stinging as he moved down her neck and across her shoulder. Suddenly, Jace's body tensed and Clary felt a sharp pain on her shoulder followed by a surge of ecstasy. With a cry, she flung her head back and instinctively wrapped her arms up around his head, holding him against her as wave after wave engulfed her body.

Jace stiffened in her grasp and his hands immediately wrenched her arms away from him. Feeling the loss of his mouth against her and the sensations it caused, Clary struggled to maintain her hold on him and bring him back to her.

"Clary." Jace's frantic voice cut through her haze. "Clary stop!"

"What?" She reached for his face again, leaning forward to run her lips across his jaw.

"Clary." He pushed her once more. "I said stop!" Jace shoved against her, and suddenly she found herself sprawled out on her bed and him standing across the room near the door.

"Jace, what the he—" She stopped dead when she caught sight of him.

His chest heaved and his body trembled, his eyes wide and filled with something she'd never seen before. Pain radiated through her arm and shoulder. A trickle of warmth dripped along her collarbone and down her chest. Absently, Clary raised her hand to her shoulder, rubbing across a stinging, sticky, wet patch. Looking down she finally saw the dark fluid spilling from the fleshy part of her shoulder.

With a gasp, she whipped her head up and found Jace. He stood as still as stone, his gaze wide and focused on her bleeding shoulder. Longing and lust filled his eyes like she'd never seen before. And for the first time in her life, she looked at him and felt fear.

* * *

**Muahahahahaha! Cliffy!! Hey, I haven't left you with one in awhile so you should be grateful!**

**Oh come on, you all know Jace going vamp is freakin' hot! **

**Answers to some questions:**

**No, Jace is NOT turning into a vampire. These 'symptoms' all have to do with the serum Stephen injected.**

**No, he has no fangs, but who needs fangs to bite and draw blood? As a mom of 4, I know this to be a very real possibility.**

**Yes, he's attracted to Clary's blood—we all knew that already.**

**Is her blood his cure? Maybe yes, maybe no…I'm not spilling my secrets!**

**Is he going to hate himself for what just happened—of course! He wouldn't be Jace if he didn't.**

**Is Clary finally going to get her head out of her butt and FORCE Jace to let her help him? Well, we'll just have to read on and see…**

**Are you going to review, review, and review some more? Heck yes you are—if you want to find out what is going to happen sooner…'cause as you know, I'm not above holding further chapters hostage. :P**

**XOXOXOXOXOXOX**


	41. Chapter 41

**Hehehe! So, you all know you like Jace's vamp-out and that it was freakin' hot!! Angsty angst now…sigh. Bear with me for the next little bit…Here we have Clary's side of the story…next will be Jace (I think—I've gotta prepare myself for that one…sigh).**

**Chapter Songs:**

_**Breath**_** by Breaking Benjamin (thank you Kingra132 for the suggestion)**

_**Bliss**_** by Hinder**

_**Don't Speak**_** by No Doubt**

* * *

Clary kept her eyes trained on Jace, watching as his face flickered with a myriad of emotions. Fear, pain, sadness, longing, lust, anger, disgust, all staying for only brief moments before shifting to the next. She didn't dare budge, her body frozen in a state of fear and disbelief as she waited. Jace's eyes met hers and small creases formed across his forehead as his mouth dropped open. Clary could see remnants of her blood staining his perfect lips.

She moved slightly on the bed, inching minutely in his direction. Shaking his head violently, he held out his hand and took a step back.

Clary took in a shuttering breath. "Jace, what's going on?"

"I bit you." His voice came out flat and dead.

Her fingers rose to the sensitive spot and the drying blood on her shoulder. "I'm all right."

"I _bit_ you." His face contorted. "I couldn't control myself and I bit you." He raised his hands to his face and pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes.

Clary chanced another few inches and scooted closer to the end of the bed. "Jace, please, let me—"

"No! Don't come near me. I—I can smell it from here." He shuddered, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "I—I need to go." Turning, he placed his hand on the knob.

"No!" Clary held her palms out in front of her. "Just—just let me go—wash this off, okay?"

He turned back to her; the amount of pain in his face caused her heart to clench in her chest. After a moment, he nodded, watching her slow movements.

"Just—don't go, okay? Please, don't go."

Closing his eyes, he let out a slow breath and nodded.

Crossing the room to the bathroom, Clary shut the door behind her and walked to the sink. Her reflection stared back at her, hair in wild tangles, eyes wide and bright. But what drew her attention was the bright red stain covering her shoulder and trailing down to the top of her breast. With a shaking hand, she pulled her stele out of her pocket and traced a healing rune on the inside of her wrist. Immediately, she felt her skin knitting back together and the pain receding.

Taking a cloth from the nearby cupboard, she held it under the faucet until the water saturated it and then rang it out. She raised it to her shoulder and began wiping the dried blood away. After a few minutes, she had all the remnants washed off, but just to makes absolutely sure, she grabbed a fresh cloth, squeezed a good amount of soap on it, and scrubbed again. Leaning forward, she studied the area in the mirror. No trace of blood remained, only two perfect crescents in the shape of his teeth shone out in dull white scars.

An unsteady breath escaped her lips as she dropped her head and leaned into the sink. She had no idea what had just happened. Sure she remembered the events, but what happened to change it all? Did she do something? Was Jace getting worse? And furthermore, why had she felt the way she did when he bit her? At first, there was pain, but what came after was so far from painful she could barely describe it. She hadn't wanted him to stop. And somewhere deep inside, she hoped he'd do it again. Something about it had felt more intimate than they'd ever been before.

Lifting her gaze to the mirror once more, she studied her reflection. How could she convince Jace that she was fine, that they were fine? She knew he'd overreact. Knew he'd blame himself and fall into a spiral of self-loathing and disgust. That was just how he was. Everything was his fault, he was pitiful, wrong, evil. Raising her hands to her head, Clary clenched her fists in her hair. She couldn't let him feel that way, couldn't let him go down that path again. But how could she prevent it? How could she make him understand?

After taking a deep breath, she placed her hand against the knob and twisted, opening the door to her room. She spotted Jace standing across the room near the window. He'd opened it, a chilly breeze blew in, ruffling his hair, and the sheer curtains as it passed through the screen. He didn't turn as she entered, the light from the bathroom spilling across the floor.

Clary grabbed a camisole from her top drawer and pulled it over her head. Walking as slowly as she could manage, she crossed the room, stopping when she saw his shoulders stiffen. More than anything she wanted to touch him, hold him, just something to have contact with him, but she could tell by his warning stance that she should keep her distance.

She stood a few feet away, wringing her hands nervously.

He sighed and turned half-way toward her, his face illuminated in the shaft of dull light coming from the window. His eyes stayed locked on the floor. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine. I promise."

He nodded, swallowed hard, and lifted his gaze to hers. Shame radiated through him so strongly she felt it through their bond.

"Jace." She took a step forward, stopping only briefly when his hand came up. Shaking her head, she moved again, coming closer. "No. I'm not scared of you, Jace. Don't push me away."

He backed up as she advanced. "You may not be, but I am."

Clary stopped when she was close enough to touch him, but far enough to keep him comfortable. "Why? I told you, I'm fine. It really didn't even hurt."

His expression pleaded with her. "Because, I lost control. I don't even know why I did it. It was just so strong and I couldn't stop it. I didn't _want_ to stop it. What if it had been worse? What if I hadn't found the strength to pull away when I finally realized what I was doing? You could be dead right now, Clary. Don't you get that?" He studied her for a moment before groaning in disgust, covering his face briefly with his palms before meeting her gaze again. "Will you_ stop_ looking at me like that?"

Clary's mouth dropped open and she sucked in a short breath. "Like what? How am I looking at you?"

Anger flashed in his eyes. "Like you understand. Like you love me. Like you forgive me. I don't want you to understand, or love me, or forgive me. I want you to be as disgusted as I am. I want you to yell at me, or slap me, or—Jesus, I don't know—have some sort of self preservation and tell me to get the hell out of your room! Something, anything except what you're doing now."

Clary raised her brows and placed her hands on her hips. "Yeah, well, that's too damn bad. I do understand and I do forgive you—except for earlier, you're still not forgiven for that. And if you think something like this," she gestured to the pale bite mark on her neck, causing him to wince, "could _ever_ make me stop loving you then—God! How could you even _think_ that?"

He crossed his arms over his chest. "That's exactly it. I _don't_ think that. You don't tend to make the smartest decisions in cases like this. You'll just keep throwing yourself into it, not caring in the least about your own safety."

"Dammit Jace, don't do this. You don't always have to have a reason to hate yourself. This isn't your fault! When are you going to realize that? When are you going to let me help you? Don't shut yourself off from me again. You are _not_ some sort of monster. You never have been and you never will be. I don't care what happens to you—it will never change who you are to me."

"Really?" He took a step forward, coming so close his chest almost touched hers. "What kind of a person does something like this," his fingers ghosted over the crescent shaped scars, raising goosebumps on her flesh, "if not at least part monster?" He leaned in, his breath flowing across her face, making her want to close the short distance between them and take his mouth with hers. "And what kind of man wants to do it again? Wants to feel his teeth sink into your flesh and taste the warm sweetness of your blood on his tongue? Because almost more than I want to shove you back against that door do I want that. So don't tell me I'm not a monster. Don't tell me you're not scared because even if you're not, you should be."

Clary narrowed her eyes and stiffened her shoulders. "I'm not afraid of you."

He grinned, but it didn't reach his eyes, and shook his head. "Always so stubborn. Even if it gets you killed you'd rather show me up then do what's best for you."

"That's because you're wrong. You won't hurt me."

He took in a deep breath through his nose. "And you don't call what just happened me hurting you? God, Clary, I just took a chunk out of your flesh. I could barely stop myself and— then you—you wouldn't even let me! I had to throw you away from me. How do you think that makes me feel? I hurt you, and you _like_ it?"

"I—" She wanted to tell him he was way off base, that everything he was thinking was wrong. But that last part, about her liking it, she couldn't deny. She _had_ liked it, more than she should have, she knew.

"Jesus, Clary." Stepping back, he ran his fingers through his hair. "I—I can't do this right now. I need to get out of here."

He took a few steps toward the door before she grabbed his arm.

"Where are you going? You can't just walk out and leave it like this, Jace."

He froze, not turning back to face her. "I'm not going anywhere. I just—I need some air, some space. I need to think, okay, and I can't do that with you looking at me, with you touching me, with your—smell—all around me."

"Jace—"

He looked at her then, his eyes pleading again. "Please, Clary. Just let me go. I'm not running, I'm not shutting down, I promise. I just need to go. To think, to clear my mind of, of—God, please don't make me say it. Just let me go."

"You promise? You swear? Because I don't think I can take it if you shut me out again."

"I promise. I just need to think, to—breathe."

Clary nodded and let her fingers slip from his arm. He met her eyes again briefly before turning, opening the door and plunging through, nearly knocking Isabelle over in his hurry to leave.

"What the hell, Jace?" Isabelle called after his retreating form before turning to Clary. "So I take it you two didn't kiss and make up?" She strolled into the room, flipped on the light, and plopped down on the bed.

Clary let out a frustrated laugh and flopped down next to Isabelle. "I don't even know what just happened."

"Clary, when are you going to learn? Jace just isn't Jace unless he's pissed about something. He'll get over it and tomorrow it'll be something else. It's just his thing, you know? Like how some people are good at writing or drawing or sports. Jace is good at being pissed—oh and being a complete ass. We can't forget that one."

"It's not even funny how true that is."

"I know, right?" Isabelle smiled and turned to Clary, her gaze falling on Clary's shoulder. "What is that?" She propped herself up on her elbow.

"What?" Clary glanced up.

"That," Isabelle pointed to the bite mark, "what is that?"

Clary looked down and self consciously covered the scar with her hand. "Nothing."

Isabelle raised her brows and reached forward, wrenching Clary's hand away. "Cut the crap. That is not 'nothing.' What the hell happened?"

Clary groaned and covered her eyes with her hands. "Nothing. Just drop it Isabelle."

"Uh, no." She sat up, pulling Clary with her. "Is this—" Her eyes grew wide. "Did he—holy hell—he did! Jesus, Clary. Are you—"

"Isabelle!" Clary cut her off. "I'm fine, all right. It's not what it looks like."

"It looks like a bite mark."

"Okay then, maybe it is what it looks like, but it's not what you think."

Isabelle shook her head, her gaze focused on the wall. "I just don't get it. I mean, this morning when Alec cut himself, Jace didn't even react—he even placed the _iratze_ on him without going all vamp."

"What?" Clary whipped her head to Isabelle. "Alec cut himself and Jace didn't do anything? No pain, no nothing?"

"No. Nothing. He said he wasn't even attracted to it, that he didn't want it at all."

Clary stared down at her bedspread, trying to piece together the information. "Then what changed from this morning to now? Why could he resist blood this morning, but not now?"

Isabelle stared at her. "Well, it really doesn't take a whole lot of brains to figure it out."

"What?"

"Come on Clary, think about it. What were the instances where he freaked out over blood?"

"Well," Clary glanced up at the ceiling and then back at Isabelle. "That one time in the kitchen and then tonight."

"And?"

"And what? Do you know of another time?"

Isabelle rolled her eyes. "What was the common denominator both times?"

Clary raised her brows and shook her head, annoyed. "Blood?"

Isabelle cursed under her breath. "You Clary. Both times it was you, your blood. No one else. You."

Clary thought about that for a moment and realized Isabelle was right. Both times Clary had been present and it had been her blood that had made him go crazy. She gasped. "You're right!" She frowned. "But, why is mine the only one making him go all blood lusty?"

Isabelle shrugged. "I don't know. You make him go all other lusty so it only makes sense."

Clary reached over again shoved Isabelle's shoulder. "Be serious."

"I am being serious. Maybe it's 'cause you rile him all up in other ways that he just can't resist you." She wiggled her eyebrows.

Clary laughed. "Shut up."

Isabelle sighed and lay back once more. "Hey, you know who we could ask?"

"Who?"

"Well, let's think about this. Who do we know that just _might_ have an idea about craving blood and other things vamp related—oh, and who just happens to be your best friend and dating yours truly?"

Clary smiled. With everything that had been happening, she hadn't seen Simon much lately. "I think that's a good—no, an excellent idea."

"Great! I'll go call him." Isabelle flipped herself up and off the bed then frowned. "You better change out of that cami because even though I know you're all crazy over Jace, I still don't want Simon's eyes getting a full view of all that." She twirled her hand in front of Clary's body.

"Yeah, okay. Meet you by the elevator in ten?"

"Make it fifteen. I have to beautify."

Clary rolled her eyes thinking the last thing Isabelle needed was to "beautify". That girl could roll out of bed and shoot a swimsuit calendar in the next second. It was so unfair. Pulling a t-shirt and hoodie over her head and slipping on a pair of tennis shoes, Clary glanced around her room, wondering what she could do to occupy the next thirteen minutes she had to wait. On her nightstand lay her sketchpad. Figuring she could waste a little time drawing, she walked over and grabbed the pad, sitting on the edge of her bed. Just as she settled into her propped up pillow, a knock sounded at her door.

She sighed and heaved herself off the bed and wrenched open the door. "Izzy, you can just come in you know—"

"Hey," Jace said, barely meeting her eye.

"Hey," she said, opening the door wider. "Want to come in?"

He shook his head and looked at the floor. "I think maybe it's best if I just stay out here." Glancing up, he gave her a sad smile.

Clary sighed and stepped over the threshold, reaching out for him and pressing her hands to his chest. Jace reached up and caught her wrists, his hands gentle on hers, carefully replacing them at her sides. His fingers lingered for just a moment before slipping away.

"Jace?" Clary stared at her hands a bit longer before slowly lifting her eyes to his.

"Listen." He glanced down the hall and then back, shoving his hands in his pockets and then removing them to run through his hair. "I have no excuse for what happened earlier and I just want you to know that I am so sorry. So sorry. And I—I don't know how to make it right. I just—I know I can't lose it like that again. I won't, Clary."

"It's all right, Jace. We can work on this together. We can—"

"No. That's the thing." He sighed and raised his hands, running them over his face. "I don't know what happened tonight, but all I can say is that when I'm—close to you—and we're—touching. It makes it a thousand times harder to keep control over myself and I can't, under any circumstances, lose control around you. You saw what happened and we both know it could've been so much worse. I just—I can't risk hurting you."

"What are you saying?"

He closed his eyes briefly before meeting hers again. "I saying I need to step back a bit."

"What?" Clary's mouth fell open.

"No, not like that." He reached out then remembered his self imposed restraint and dropped his hand back to his side. "God, I'm not saying this right. It's hard for me when we're—close, and when you're touching me. I just need to—slow down a little, at least until we can figure this out or I can get a hold on everything."

"So, you're saying I can't touch you?"

"No, that's not what I'm saying. I just can't get carried away—can't lose myself."

"Can I kiss you?" she whispered.

He looked at her, studying her carefully before bending and touching his lips softly to hers. Clary wanted nothing more than to throw her arms around his neck, pull him closer and open her mouth against his, tasting him. But instead, she only stood there, letting him lead her in what he could handle. He let his lips linger for another moment before pulling back.

"That was okay."

Clary nodded, her throat closing around a large lump.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I hate this. I just want to kiss you like normal, hold you, love you, and it's killing me that I can't without having all these—feelings. But I can't risk hurting you."

"Jace . . ."

"Clary, please don't make this harder than it already is. You know this isn't what I want either."

"I know."

Tentatively, he reached forward and cupped her cheeks. "We're going to fix this. I promise." He leaned in and brushed his lips against her forehead.

Clary closed her eyes and nodded.

"Aww, finally a make up?" Isabelle's voice reached them "No biting this time, Jace."

Clary's eyes flew open as Jace's hands left her face, a frown fixed upon his. "I didn't tell her, I swear. She saw the mark."

His face smoothed over as he looked at Isabelle. "You're just jealous your bloodsucker doesn't bite you." He turned to Clary. "I'll see you later."

"Jace—"

But he had already started down the hall.

Isabelle opened her mouth to throw an insult at his back, then decided against it. "That's true. I've heard it's pretty hot."

"Isabelle," Clary scolded.

"What? I did." She shrugged. "Simon's meeting us at Taki's, you ready?"

"Yeah." Clary glanced down the hall, following Jace's retreating form as he turned into the library. "I'm ready."

* * *

**Sorry! We all know better, but you know Jace, always thinking about Clary's well being before his own. Sigh. Next chapter will be Jace POV—like I said before…I've got to prepare myself for that, LOL!**

**Don't forget to leave me a message!!! Reviews make me smile. :)**


	42. Chapter 42

**Wow! This thing is monstrous! Much, much, much, longer than I anticipated!**

**Now, I've done something here that I haven't done before and I would never normally do, but I really felt like it was important to see it through Jace's eyes. I think we all need to understand what is really going on inside him so that we can accept the things he's doing. This starts with the 'love scene' and goes through when he left Clary in the hall after their talk. I debated writing the whole 'rough love' again, but I really think you need it from his side too. I will warn you though…it's MUCH more intense coming from him and may be a little cringe-worthy to those that are a little more sensitive to this kind of stuff. If you don't want to read it all, at least read the last little part when he bites her. But, IMO, it's better if you have the whole build up. But, it's extreme. Just putting that out there. :) **

**This was painful to write and may be to read. I'm sorry about that, but this is Jace—we all know he's tortured and now that he's hurt his girl…well…you can only imagine. **

**Okay, I think the warnings are done, LOL! I would say enjoy…but I don't know if that's possible so just…read with caution…**

**Chapter Songs:**

**_Hate Me_**** by Blue October –this song is for the majority of the chapter. It's one of the best self-loathing songs I've ever heard and really captures what would be going on in Jace's mind.**

**_Whatever it Takes_**** by Lifehouse – this is mostly just the end convo between Jace and Clary. (Thank you to orb2793 for the song rec!)**

*****I own nothing*****

* * *

Clary's body slung over Jace's shoulder felt almost as if he was carrying nothing. Sometimes the super strength and endurance proved to be a great benefit. He liked the intensity coursing through his veins, flooding his muscles with a power he never imagined he would have. It made him feel like he could really do his job, that he could finally do everything possible for Clary. Yet she continued to fight him, to assert her independence—which he had to admit he loved. Loved the way her eyes flashed and her cheeks filled with color as she stood her ground against him. She was never more attractive than when she told him where to stick it—not that he'd ever let her know that, because even though it was sexier than hell, her safety was more important than his little fantasies. All he wanted was to keep her safe. To make sure she stayed as innocent as possible. The thought that maybe someday one of those filthy creatures might manage to get their claws into her made a rage rise inside that scared even him.

"Will you put me down now?" Clary asked after they'd reached the Institute and the elevator doors closed.

"Are you still mad at me?"

"Yes."

He grinned to himself. God, he loved her stubbornness—another thing he'd never tell her. "Then no."

She huffed, and jabbed her elbow into his back. He stifled a laugh at her attempts to show him how annoyed she was. It was cute that she thought that might hurt him. The elevator doors slid open and Jace stepped out, in a hurry to get her alone. Watching her all night at Pandemonium, dancing, flirting, luring, had been almost more than he could take. She worked her way flawlessly around the dance floor, spying and ensnaring the Draineer in her trap. As much as he hated the thought of her being so close to any sort of demonic creature, her job as bait had gone over flawlessly, and to his dismay, she'd done a fabulous job. So good, in fact, he wasn't sure he'd be able to get away with objecting to her playing the role again.

Jace came to a stop just outside of Clary's door, his heart already slamming in his chest. He felt energized, more alive than he'd felt in a long time, but something was different. Something stirred inside him, an impatience, a forceful need he couldn't explain.

"Jace what are you doing?"

Without answering, he twisted the knob, stepped inside and then kicked the door shut behind him. He didn't bother with the light. Reaching up, he placed one of his hands on the small of Clary's back and with the other pushed her off his shoulder, and up against the door. Not able to hold back another second he crushed his lips to hers, needing to feel, to taste, to breathe her in. His body ached to be against her, every inch pressing into every inch. He aligned himself with her, holding her firmly trapped like a fly in a spider's web.

Forcing himself to break the kiss, he asked, "Are you still mad?"

"Yes." She tried to keep up her angry act, but the breathy tenor of her voice gave her away, as did the weak little shove she attempted against his chest.

Her body shuddered slightly against him, letting him know she liked what he was doing. A rush of energy shot through him, he wanted to show her he could be strong, that he could always take care of her. That she never needed to feel unprotected and vulnerable.

Wrapping his long fingers around her wrists, he pulled her arms above her head and secured them in one hand. Her fragile bones bent under his powerful hands and he made sure to keep his grip firm but gentle enough to not hurt her. The strength that flowed through his fingers ached to tighten its hold, but he dominated the desire, reveling in his victory. His other trailed down her side and grabbed at her hip, pulling her roughly against him and experimenting a bit with the tightness of his grip. She gasped in a way that let him know he was still okay and although she was surprised, it was pleasantly. It was thrilling to finally touch her the way he always wanted but was too afraid to try. He didn't know why tonight felt different, why the need to completely consume her was so much stronger than normal.

"Still?"

She bit her lip and nodded.

God, did she have any idea how much it drove him crazy when she bit her lip like that? And did she realize how much he wanted those teeth to be his nipping at her full mouth. Leaning forward, he ran his tongue along her lower lip until she released it for him. He sucked it into his mouth and gently closed around the plump flesh, pulling away slowly as his teeth scraped along.

"Now?" He could hardly stand it and knew he couldn't hold back the full force of what was building inside him much longer.

But Clary wasn't through playing her little game yet and straightened herself to exert her confidence. "Yes."

His heart hammered against his ribcage and the fire in his chest grew to an almost unbearable level. Releasing her hands from his grip above her head, he grasped her other hip firmly, his fingers digging into her flesh. "Dammit, Clary. I'm sorry."

She narrowed her eyes. "You're _not_ forgiven."

Did she know? Could she possibly fathom what she was doing to him? In an attempt to show her, he slammed her against the door once more, pinning her between it and his body. "Sooner or later you're going to forgive me."

A small whimper escaped from her lips. The sound like music to his ears. He couldn't help the small grin that slowly spread across his lips. "Told ya."

Clary's little fists twisted into his hair, pulling his face closer to hers, causing every nerve in his body to ignite like tiny individual fires roaring to life. "This does _not_ mean you're forgiven." Without warning, she crushed her lips to his, immediately opening them to him.

Her mouth swallowed him up, her taste filling his mind and clouding over all his good judgment. Never before had her essence so completely absorbed him to the point his instincts took over and his sense disappeared. Aching to bring her nearer, he dug his fingers into her, pulling desperately at her hips. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she pressed herself tightly against him. He could not stand the barriers between them any longer and twisted his fist into her shirt, tugging forcefully and tearing the fabric from her.

Clary reacted to him by wrapping her own hands into his shirt and pulling as if she wanted to do the same. More than willing to give her what she wanted, he reached up and gripped his own shirt at the collar, pulling against it with enough force to completely rip it from his own body. When Clary let out a moan, the tiny flames burst into an all-consuming inferno, destroying any ounce of restraint he had left.

As she dug her fingers into his shoulders, he slid his hands down and clamped around the backs of her thighs, pulling her up and onto his hips. Her legs wrapped around him, trapping him in her own little vise grip. Still not feeling close enough, he rammed her back up against the door, pushing himself tighter to her, and reached up to take her face in his hands, pulling it down to his. His body screamed at him to take her, devour her, and make her putty in his hands. His mouth opened against hers, his tongue forcing its way in and his teeth nipping at her lips. Her scent and her taste overwhelmed him to the point that he couldn't stop, didn't want to ever stop.

His lips moved over her cheek, finding her ear, sucking it in and nibbling on her lobe. She tasted like Heaven. Her body trembled with his onslaught and only managed to make him burn hotter. When she tried to kiss him back, he pushed her back, not able to pull himself from her intoxicating skin and continued to assault her neck with his mouth. Finally, her body went limp in his arms as he held her pinned. Victory and excitement flooded every inch of his body as his lips, tongue, and teeth slid along her collarbone.

Her essence grew stronger the more time he spent kissing her, rising as she fell deeper into him. His heartbeat raged in his ears as hers did under his lips. Tightening his hold on her, Jace wrapped one of his arms around her back, while sliding the other up her spine and cupping the base of her neck. He felt her pulse racing in her neck as his lips slid over her skin, pushing him further down the spiral of control. He frantically tugged against her flesh with his mouth, needing more, more, more of her. Suddenly, the roaring rush of the blood in her veins and her overpowering scent assaulted him causing him to tense under its spell. Overwhelming sensations took hold of him, the flames grew hotter and his muscles clenched in anticipation. His stomach twisted with undeniable need. Thoughts attacked his mind, telling him to take her, consume her, devour her, _bite_. Unable to push back the desire any longer, he bit down, his teeth sinking through her soft flesh until his mouth filled with the most intoxicatingly delicious warmth he'd ever tasted. His body practically hummed as the thick liquid flooded his tongue. He nearly lost himself to the sensation and incredible hunger twisting his stomach into knots, until he heard Clary gasp and clutch his head tighter to her, her body convulsing against him.

Jace stiffened in realization and fear, yanking his face away from her bleeding flesh and immediately tearing her arms away from him. Every instinct in his body screamed for him to continue, to clamp back down and draw the smooth liquid down his throat, promising it would quench the thirst and stop the pain. But he fought against it, knowing it was wrong, knowing it was sick, disgusting, monstrous. Clary's hands clutched at his face, twisting into his hair, and frantically trying to draw him closer again. He grabbed her hands and pushed them away, pulling his face further from what he really wanted.

"Clary." He tried desperately to keep his sanity when the scent of her blood swirled around, taunting him to come back. "Clary stop!"

"What?" She reached for his face again, bringing her bleeding flesh closer once more, causing his eyes to roll back into his head and his control to almost slip once again.

"Clary." He regained his composure and pushed her once more. "I said stop!" Jace shoved against her as hard as he could without hurting her, hating himself for it but knowing it was the only way to free himself from whatever hold her blood had over him. She flew from his arms and landed on her back on the bed. His body shuddered with the loss of her, his stomach roaring in protest, begging him to just give in, just take what he knew he wanted.

"Jace, what the he—" She glared up at him for a moment until her eyes widened and fear took the place of her anger.

Jace wanted to turn away and run from the room, taking himself as far away from her blood as he possibly could, but his legs stayed fixed to that spot, his eyes glued to the wound on her shoulder. The fragrant, crimson drops dripped down her silky white collar bone and over the delicious flesh of the top of her breast. What he wouldn't give to go to her now and lick up every drop, savoring the flavor on his tongue. He was aware of his heaving chest and trembling limbs, but there seemed to be nothing he could do to stop it. Every last ounce of his strength was being directed to keep him from pouncing on her and doing exactly what his body begged him to.

Finally, as Clary raised her hand to her shoulder and touched the seeping wound, realization dawned on her face. With a gasp, she whipped her head up, a mixture of understanding and fear overtaking her features. Despair and a surprising flicker of pleasure ripped through him at the look on her face. A look that told him she finally saw, finally grasped the monster he was and the enormity of what he'd just done. The way he'd violated her, taken what he had no right to take.

A countless number of emotions rolled through him. First he felt fear, fear that he hurt her more than she was letting on. Then came sadness and anger over losing control of himself. Then pain from the constant tightening of his muscles and longing for the spilled blood. And most of all, anger, anger at his weakness, at Stephen for inflicting this on him, and anger at Clary for being the one thing he could not deny himself.

Clary stayed frozen on the bed, her eyes glued to him as if she were waiting for him to let her know she could move. He tried to reassure her by meeting her gaze and offering an apologetic smile. But then she moved, causing a wave of her scent to overwhelm him again. His throat flared and his stomach clenched impossibly tighter. Shaking his head violently, he held out his hand and took a step back.

"Jace, what's going on?" Clary's voice shook with fear and uncertainty.

His throat clenched down on him as he tried to speak, causing his voice to come out flat. "I bit you."

She touched the wound on her shoulder, and although the blood had mostly dried, her fingers came away with a slight red coating. Jace had to fight against the urge to stalk over to her and take her fingers into his mouth, cleaning them of every molecule. "I'm all right."

"I _bit_ you." His face contorted in his disgust. "I couldn't control myself and I bit you." He raised his hands to his face and pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes, wishing he could gouge them out instead and remove the images of her sprawled out across the bed, red streams flowing from her neck and him hovering over her, lapping up every drop.

Clary tested his resolve by scooting forward another couple inches. "Jace, please, let me—"

"No! Don't come near me. I—I can smell it from here." He shuddered, his hands clenching into fists at his sides, as the scent assaulted him once more. "I—I need to go." Turning, he placed his shaking hand on the knob, willing his mind to win over the constant denial of his body.

"No!" Clary shouted, her voice thick with pleading. "Just—just let me go—wash this off, okay?"

He turned back to her, wanting so badly to be able to assure her everything was okay, but knowing without a doubt that it had never been further from okay than at that moment. Unable to escape like he wanted, he nodded, watching her climb slowly from the bed and hurry across the room.

"Just—don't go, okay? Please, don't go."

Closing his eyes, he let out a slow breath, trying to still his rapid heartbeat, and nodded. He kept his eyes clenched until he heard the bathroom door click shut. More than anything, he wanted to flee, to breathe in air not tainted with the sweet smell of her. But still, he could not will his feet to leave the room. His weakness held him there and disgusted him to the point of nausea. He needed to clear his head, needed to remove the scent of her from him.

Crossing the room, he stopped in front of the window, wrenched it open, and took a deep breath. Smog had never smelled so good to him. Immediately, it cleared the all consuming aroma of her blood from his mind, calming the twisted agony in his gut and helping to slow the rapid thuds of his heart. He tried not to concentrate on the taste of her still lingering on his tongue. He didn't know how long he stood there in the cool draft before he felt her approach. His shoulders stiffened instinctively, readying him for the onslaught of her torturous fragrance. But, mercifully, it never came.

He sighed and turned half-way toward her, keeping his eyes locked on the floor. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine. I promise."

He nodded, swallowed hard, and lifted his gaze to hers. She stood before him, clean, mostly unharmed and gazing at him with none of the disgust or loathing he had expected. But with only concern and love. Somehow, that made everything that much worse.

"Jace." She took a step forward, stopping only briefly when he raised his hand in warning. He didn't know if he could take her being close right then. Shaking her head, she moved again, coming closer. "No. I'm not scared of you, Jace. Don't push me away."

He backed up as she advanced, knowing he looked like a coward, but preferring that to hurting her again. "You may not be, but I am."

Clary stopped her advance and looked at him, confused. "Why? I told you, I'm fine. It really didn't even hurt."

"Because, I lost control. I don't even know why I did it. It was just so strong and I couldn't stop it. I didn't _want_ to stop it. What if it had been worse? What if I couldn't have found the strength to pull away when I finally realized what I was doing? You could be dead right now, Clary. Don't you get that?" He groaned in disgust as her face never changed, never stopped looking at him like she just wanted to reach out and hold him. "Will you_ stop_ looking at me like that?"

Clary's mouth dropped open and she sucked in a short breath. "Like what? How am I looking at you?"

Anger shot through him. "Like you understand. Like you love me. Like you forgive me. I don't want you to understand, or love me, or forgive me. I want you to be as disgusted as I am. I want you to yell at me, or slap me, or—Jesus, I don't know—have some sort of self preservation and tell me to get the hell out of your room! Something, anything except what you're doing now."

Clary raised her brows and placed her hands on her hips. "Yeah, well, that's too damn bad. I do understand and I do forgive you—except for earlier, you're still not forgiven for that. And if you think something like this," she swept her hand pale bite mark on her neck, causing him to wince, "could _ever_ make me stop loving you then—God! How could you even _think_ that?"

He crossed his arms over his chest, trying his hardest to keep himself from taking her in his arms like he wanted. "That's exactly it. I _don't_ think that. You don't tend to make the smartest decisions in cases like this. You'll just keep throwing yourself into it, not caring in the least about your own safety."

"Dammit Jace, don't do this. You don't always have to have a reason to hate yourself. This isn't your fault! When are you going to realize that? When are you going to let me help you? Don't shut yourself off from me again. You are _not_ some sort of monster. You never have been and you never will be. I don't care what happens to you—it will never change who you are to me."

"Really?" He took a step forward, needing to make her understand just how serious he was. Just how much danger she really was in standing there in front of him. "What kind of a person does something like this," his fingers brushed over the crescent shaped scars, bringing on a wave of bloodlust to rival the one that had just passed, "if not at least part monster?" He leaned in, unable to resist her draw. "And what kind of man wants to do it again? Wants to feel his teeth sink into your flesh and taste the warm sweetness of your blood on his tongue? Because almost more than I want to shove you back against that door do I want that. So don't tell me I'm not a monster. Don't tell me you're not scared because even if you're not, you should be."

Clary narrowed her eyes and stiffened her shoulders. "I'm not afraid of you."

He grinned in disbelief at her absolute disregard for her own safety and shook his head. "Always so stubborn. Even if it gets you killed you'd rather show me up then do what's best for you."

"That's because you're wrong. You won't hurt me."

He took in a deep breath through his nose, his nostrils flaring at the traces of her scent coming off her newly washed skin. "And you don't call what just happened me hurting you? God, Clary, I just took a chunk out of your flesh. I could barely stop myself and— then you—you wouldn't even let me! I had to throw you away from me. How do you think that makes me feel? I hurt you, and you _like_ it?"

"I—" Her hesitation proved the one thing he hoped he was wrong about. She liked it. Liked the feeling of him dominating her, of him _taking_ her that way.

"Jesus, Clary." Stepping back, he ran his fingers through his hair. Disgusted once more at the excitement and lust burning through his veins. He felt it building once more, the insane hunger for her and knew he needed to get away, now, before he couldn't stop himself. "I—I can't do this right now. I need to get out of here."

He took a few steps toward the door before she grabbed his arm. His body sang and recoiled at the same time under her fingers.

"Where are you going? You can't just walk out and leave it like this, Jace."

He froze, not turning back to face her, knowing if he allowed even a moment of weakness he wouldn't have the strength to pull away. "I'm not going anywhere. I just—I need some air, some space. I need to think, okay, and I can't do that with you looking at me, with you touching me, with your—smell—all around me."

"Jace—"

Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, stealing himself against the ambush of feelings he was sure to receive, he turned and looked at her. "Please, Clary. Just let me go. I'm not running, I'm not shutting down, I promise. I just need to go. To think, to clear my mind of, of—" _The smell of your blood and the taste of your life on my tongue. _"God, please don't make me say it. Just let me go."

"You promise? You swear? Because I don't think I can take it if you shut me out again." She looked at him, pleading with him to give her the assurance she needed to let him go.

"I promise. I just need to think, to—breathe."

Clary nodded and let her fingers slip from his arm. He met her eyes again briefly before turning, opening the door and plunging through, nearly knocking Isabelle over in his hurry to leave.

"What the hell, Jace?" He heard Isabelle call after him, but he couldn't turn back, couldn't stop for even a moment.

Rushing through his door, he slammed it shut behind him and leaned against it, panting against the rising pain in his stomach. It tightened like a fist and screamed against the pressure. This pain he'd always considered to be his body trying to rid itself of the poisonous venom, he now recognized as ravenous hunger. The thought brought on a wave of nausea that nearly dropped him to his knees, but instead sent him flying to the bathroom. Making it just in time, he retched against the emptiness and pain ravaging him. Nothing came up but his body didn't register that and continued forcefully trying to expel what wasn't there. He knew what he needed, but even considering it caused him to convulse in more gags.

After a few minutes, the nausea lessened and his muscles relaxed slightly from their consistently contracted state. He slumped back and rested his face against the cool tile wall next to the toilet. His entire body trembled in the aftermath of the violent reaction. God he hated being weak, being pathetic.

Forcing himself to move, he stood, his legs feeling unsteady, and made his way to the sink. He bent and splashed his face with cold water, trying to wash away the filth he knew covered him. Glancing up, he caught a glimpse of his reflection and so overcome with revulsion, thrust his fist forward, shattering the mirror into a million tiny shards. He gripped the sides of the sink so hard a piece of porcelain broke off in his hand.

Stepping back, his shoes crunching through the glass littering the floor surrounding his feet, he raised his hands to his hair, grabbing two fistfuls and pulling lightly. A groan escaped his throat as he took in the damage he'd caused; knowing Maryse would not let him off easily for this. After a moment, he exited the bathroom and made his way back into his room, spying the little white refrigerator in the corner. He scowled at it, knowing he needed what was inside but wanting nothing more than to heave it out the window.

Instead of allowing himself to damage more property, he knelt down, opened it, and took out two of the small bottles. He closed his eyes and cursed himself for being weak, for being such a sickening monster. Opening the lid, he emptied the first bottle down his throat, and then the second. The animal blood did not quell the hunger the way it normally did and he could still feel the twisting need deep in his gut. Closing his fist around the tiny bottles, he squeezed until he felt the glass give under his strength. The sharp splinters dug into his flesh, releasing a steady flow of his own blood into his closed hand. Fascinated, he watched as small streams seeped from between his clenched fingers, coloring his skin in crimson streaks.

Just then, he heard a knock at the door. "What?" he called in annoyance.

"Jace?" Alec's voice came from the other side.

Jace rolled his eyes. "It's my room, Alec. Who else would it be?"

"Are you, you know, alone and decent?"

"I am alone, but define decent."

"Dressed?"

"Then yes, by your definition I'm decent."

"Can I come in?"

Jace sighed and studied his hand again. "I guess."

The door opened and Alec entered the room, his eyes immediately finding Jace's bleeding hand. "God, what did you do now?" He knelt down in front of Jace, taking his hand in his. Prying it open, he revealed the lump of what was left of the bottles. "Jesus. When are you going to stop hurting yourself like this?" He grabbed the trash can next to the wall and dumped the contents from Jace's hand into it before grabbing his stele and tracing the _iratze_ onto his wrist.

Jace stared blankly at his healing hand. "I bit Clary."

Alec's head jerked up. "What? Why?"

Jace peered up and narrowed his eyes. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe it was because of the fact that I never had a sibling growing up to pick on and bite, and I thought it might be fun."

Alec scowled.

"Why do you think, Alec?"

Alec sighed. "So, it's getting worse."

"I don't know if worse is the right term. Maybe just—more defined."

"So, what's the deal? What happened that made you bite her?"

Jace propped his elbows on his knees and dropped his face into his hands. "I don't know. I couldn't help it."

"You couldn't help it? Why not? You resisted my blood this morning."

Jace sighed. "I know. This was different. It was so strong I just couldn't stop myself."

"What did she do? Did she freak out?"

Jace stood and walked to the window, staring out at the busy street below. "No." He thought back to the way she'd gasped and tightened her grip on him. His stomach tightened at the memory, and a wave of longing shot through him. He closed his eyes and willed the feelings away.

"I wonder what changed," Alec said, almost to himself.

Jace turned to him and watched as he tried to figure it out.

After a moment, Alec's head snapped up. "Maybe . . ."

"Maybe what?"

"Maybe nothing's really changed."

Jace made his way back to the bed and plopped down, folding his arms behind his head. "Well, obviously something has since I've never tried to make anyone lunch before." He shuddered at the admission.

"No, but you have reacted before."

"Just once."

"And who was there that time too."

Jace narrowed his eyes and sat up. "What are you saying, Alec?"

Alec shrugged. "I'm saying that maybe there's more to this than what it seems. Each time you've reacted to blood it's been with Clary. Maybe it isn't just about hunger."

"What else could it be about? I distinctly felt hungry and—" Jace flashed back to the feeling of a need so strong he just couldn't pull her close enough. Couldn't consume her enough. All of those feelings of wanting her culminated in one final overwhelming desire to devour—and not just in the literal sense. He closed his eyes and let out a slow breath. "Yeah, maybe not."

"Maybe we could ask Magnus to do that thing again."

"He couldn't tell anything more the first time, what makes you think he could this time?"

"Well." Alec scratched his head. "We know more now. We know what you're craving."

Jace flinched at the word "craving."

Alec stood and walked over to the door. "Let me go call him and see if he can meet with us again. He wasn't too thrilled with me last time for just showing up."

Jace nodded and waved him away. As the door clicked behind Alec, Jace knew what he had to do. No matter how hard it was he needed to distance himself from Clary—at least physically. Just the thought of her warm skin sent his stomach into a tightening fit. He couldn't imagine what it might do if he were to get too close—too wrapped up in her and let the feelings overcome him again. Now that he knew exactly what it felt like to want her in every way, he had to stay away until he could figure this all out—find a way to either cope or cure it once and for all. He couldn't keep putting her in danger, no matter what it took, he would keep her safe.

Pulling himself together, he stood and made his way out the door and into the hall. The closer he got to the door, the shakier his resolve became. He couldn't stand the thought of not touching her, not holding her, not kissing her. But he could stand the thought of him hurting her even less. When he reached her door, he took a deep breath and raised his hand, knocking lightly on the wood.

After a moment, the door swung open. "Izzy, you can just come in you know—" Her eyes widened when she realized it was him and not Isabelle.

"Hey," Jace said, barely meeting her eye, and trying so hard not to breathe in too deeply or look at her neck.

"Hey," she said, opening the door wider. "Want to come in?"

He shook his head and looked at the floor. "I think maybe it's best if I just stay out here." Glancing up, he tried to reassure her with a small smile, but by the look on her face only managed to worry her further.

Clary sighed and stepped over the threshold, reaching out for him and pressing her hands to his chest. A thrill shot through him, heating every inch of his body and finally twisting into an almost unbearable ache in his stomach. Jace reached up and caught her wrists, trying his hardest to not pull her closer and capture her lips with his, and carefully replaced them at her sides. Yearning to feel her softness for just one more moment, he allowed his fingers to linger a bit longer.

"Jace?" Clary stared at her hands and fiddled with her fingers before slowly lifting her eyes to his.

"Listen." Glancing down the hall, then back, he shoved his hands in his pockets and then removed them to run through his hair. He had no idea what to do with himself because the most natural feeling was to touch her, and he couldn't allow himself to do that. "I have no excuse for what happened earlier and I just want you to know that I am so sorry. So sorry. And I—I don't know how to make it right. I just—I know I can't lose it like that again. I won't, Clary."

"It's all right, Jace. We can work on this together. We can—"

"No. That's the thing." He sighed and raised his hands, running them over his face. God, how was he going to do this? "I don't know what happened tonight, but all I can say is that when I'm—close to you—and we're—touching. It makes it a thousand times harder to keep control over myself and I can't, under any circumstances, lose control around you. You saw what happened and we both know it could've been so much worse. I just—I can't risk hurting you."

"What are you saying?"

He closed his eyes briefly before meeting hers again. "I'm saying I need to step back a bit."

"What?" Clary's mouth fell open.

"No, not like that." He reached out then remembered his self imposed restraint and dropped his hand back to his side. The hurt in her eyes was almost more than he could bear. "God, I'm not saying this right. It's hard for me when we're—close, and when you're touching me. I just need to—slow down a little, at least until we can figure this out or I can get a hold on everything."

"So, you're saying I can't touch you?"

"No, that's not what I'm saying. I just can't get carried away—can't lose myself."

"Can I kiss you?" she whispered.

His heart dropped into his stomach as he looked at her, wanting nothing more than to allow that. But could he do it without wanting more? Without needing more? The way her eyes begged him told him he needed to try. At least try. For her. Holding his breath, he bent and touched his lips softly to hers. A flare of heat welled up inside him, but it wasn't more than he could handle—as long as it wasn't more than this. Even now, he could tell, if he let himself, he could easily lose control over it again. He let his lips linger for another moment before pulling back.

"That was okay." He finally breathed in, her scent causing a quiver to settle in his abdomen.

Clary nodded and looked down.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his chest clenching around the words. "I hate this. I just want to kiss you like normal, hold you, love you, and it's killing me that I can't without having all these—feelings. But I can't risk hurting you."

"Jace . . ."

"Clary, please don't make this harder than it already is. You know this isn't what I want either."

"I know."

Tentatively, he reached forward and cupped her cheeks, needing to feel her once more, and to let her know how much he wanted her regardless. "We're going to fix this. I promise." He leaned in and brushed his lips against her forehead, his stomach tightening again.

Clary closed her eyes and nodded.

"Aww, finally a make up?" Isabelle's voice reached them "No biting this time, Jace."

Clary's eyes flew open. "I didn't tell her, I swear. She saw the mark."

Jace scowled and then smoothed his expression, not wanting to let Isabelle know how much her words bothered him. "You're just jealous your bloodsucker doesn't bite you." He turned to Clary. "I'll see you later."

"Jace—"

But he had already turned and started down the hall. He saw Alec's head disappearing into the library, hopefully with news on when they could meet with Magnus. With determination, he walked toward the room, ready to figure this out, ready to reclaim his life and keep Clary safe. He'd do anything, whatever it took to make that happen.

* * *

**So there you have it! Jace's POV on the whole vamping out issue. I hope it helped to see exactly what he's going through and why he's reacting the way he is. I feel bad torturing him so, but I only do it to those I really and truly love.**

**And I have to say…I REALLY enjoy writing in Jace's POV. I don't know why…**

**Show Jace some love and leave a review. He's had a hard day…;)**

**In light of a comment, something was brought to my attention. I would like to comment that in NO WAY is Jace considering killing himself. I'm so sorry if anyone else got that impression! When he says 'end it all' he was talking about curing the effects of the serum not ending his life! I realize how that could have come off that way but that was not how it was intended. Now we all know that Jace WOULD sacrifice himself for those he loves (i.e. going after Valentine alone in COG when he knew it was a very real possibility he wouldn't return), but I really don't think he would ever actually PLAN to do that. Just wanted to clear that up in case anyone else took it that way. In fact, I changed the wording to avoid any more misunderstanding as to the meaning behind it.  
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	43. Chapter 43

**First of all, I'd like to apologize for the delay in updating. I hit a bit of a creative block—which is actually pretty common for me when writing the end parts of a story. I think I have just such a hard time letting a story go that my brain automatically shuts down, LOL! Also, I spent a night in the hospital with my little girl this week too so my mind has been elsewhere.**

**Thank you all so much for all your awesome reviews. I'm sorry I can't reply to everyone. I used to but you all have so awesomely overwhelmed me that I can't get to them all anymore! I try to answer question and things like that, but please don't think I don't appreciate your comments because I ABSOLUTELY do! I love them!**

**Okay, so this chapter…sigh. Another transition chapter—which you know I hate and are harder for me to write. And this is different because I switched POV's kind of a lot here (separated by scene breaks of course). We're getting very close to the end now. I have some ideas for another story—AU with Jace and Clary…of course it would be full of fluff cause you know, that's my thing and all…:D But we'll see. If you want to know when I post that, you'll have to add me to author alerts…but it won't be until Rogue is done anyway.**

**Also, I'd like to address the issue with some being upset with Jace for reacting the way he has. Come on guys, would we all REALLY expect Jace to just say "Oh, I need to drink her blood to live? Awesome, guess I'll just do that then." Um, heck no. He'd fight it. Look for another way. Anything but risk Clary's life. We all know that and if he didn't react that way he wouldn't be Jace. So let's give him a break. The guy is made of awesomeness.**

**Ok, sorry for the hugely long A/N.**

**Chapter Songs:**

_**Money for That**_** by Shiny Toy Guns (Scene 1) (Clary and Simon) (Thank you Jess-i-cuh for the song rec!)**

_**U + UR Hand**_** by Pink (All the Scenes at Pandemonium) –I freaking love this song, LOL!**

****As always, I own nothing from the original MI world, everything else is mine. :)****

* * *

It seemed like forever since Clary had spent any time with Simon, and in actuality, it probably was. She'd been so consumed with Jace, and everything that was happening, she had seriously neglected her friend. Not that he hadn't been busy with his band, other friends, and vamp stuff.

Dinner at Taki's was awkward at best. She and Simon had never been weird around each other—with the exception of when he told her he'd been in love with her for years and she didn't reciprocate. The evening consisted of a lot of listening to Isabelle talk, and Simon and Clary giving each other strange, uncomfortable glances.

Clary hated the distance. She wanted the easy, carefree friendship back. The one where she could spill anything and know he would make her laugh or tease her enough to let her know she was being ridiculous. The simple fact was she missed him. Missed his dorky t-shirts (which, by the way, he was wearing one with the word AWESOMENESS stretching across the front), his obsession with D&D, his stupid band mates and their constant arguments over band names (Steaming Pile was their latest proposal), and just their easy conversation. It had been so uncomplicated being with Simon. None of the angst that came along with being with Jace—of being in love with someone. She loved Simon in that brotherly, best friend sort of way, and it was so effortless. She needed that right now. Needed that security, that simplicity. A break from the constant stream of worry and fear that seemed to plague her day after day.

After dinner, Isabelle dragged them both to one of her favorite shops because apparently she needed another new outfit or six. Not wanting to watch Isabelle's obsessive shopping, Clary and Simon parked it on a bench outside the store, observing the self absorbed pedestrians walk right past, not having a clue that on that bench sat a part angel and a vampire.

Clary chuckled to herself at the absurdity of it all.

Simon turned to her, his brows raised in a curious expression. "What's so funny?"

Clary laughed harder and shook her head. "I was just thinking about how weird it is that here we sit, a partial angel and a vampire, and none of these people have any clue that I have the knowledge to kill them before they'd even notice me, and that you can hear every one of their heartbeats and the rush of the blood in their veins. We look like two of the most insignificant dorky kids in the world, but we're anything but."

Simon smiled. "Speak for yourself. I have it under good authority that I am now considered 'hot.' And therefore very non-dorkish."

"Yeah, yeah." Clary patted his knee. "You've got that whole smokin' vamp thing going on. That's okay; I'll maintain the geek status in our relationship. I kinda like it. No one expects me to be all sexy and whatnot."

"No one?" Simon raised a brow.

"Shut up." Clary shoved him before smiling. "I've missed hanging out with you, Simon."

"Me too," he said as he turned to continue people watching. "But, I understand. Things have been crazy with you and I get that."

Clary sighed and focused on a group of teenagers laughing and goofing off on the sidewalk down the street. "So, how is everything back home? You know, with the gang and everything."

Simon furrowed his brow and glanced over at her. "What gang? There was never a gang except you and me—unless you were cheating on me with some other cooler friends I wasn't aware of."

She shook her head and grinned. "No. I meant Eric and everyone."

"Oh." He turned back to the street. "They're all right, I guess." He scrunched his nose. "They all think I've changed into some freak woman magnet or something so they keep trying to drag me to clubs and crap—you know I don't like that stuff—trying to help them pick up girls. It's annoying."

"I thought Eric had a girl?"

Simon scoffed. "For like about a minute. You've heard his poetry. She got one whiff of that and was out the door so fast, I barely saw her leave."

Clary laughed. "Smart girl." She sighed and lowered her gaze to her hands, fiddling with her fingers as she stared.

"Clary, what's going on? You're not acting like yourself."

Without raising her eyes to him, she said, "Sometimes I just miss how it used to be. When it was just you and me against everything else. I miss the uncomplicatedness of us."

"What did Jace do? Do I need to bust out my new vamp skills on him? 'Cause you know I will, and to tell you the truth, I have been waiting for the day for you to ask."

Clary shook her head, finally meeting his gaze. "No. Nothing. Not really." She sighed. "It's just complicated and I don't know what to do."

Simon reached out and draped his arm over her shoulder. "Spill it, Fray."

She took in a shuttering breath as a few tears fell over her cheeks. Swiping at them angrily she said, "Dammit. I hate being such a girl."

Simon laughed. "But you are a girl."

"Yes, I'm aware of that fact, Simon. I just hate acting like one. What's the deal with all this cliché crying bull I keep doing? I used to be tougher than this. Why is it when I finally become physically stronger, I get emotionally weaker? That's not how it's supposed to happen."

Simon stared at her expectantly.

She let out a loud groan. "Fine. It is Jace—but not what you think. I'm—I'm really freaking out and I don't know what to do."

"What are you freaking over?"

"He's—well, he's having issues with whatever it is Stephen did to him."

"So, he finally told you. At least he isn't as much of an idiot as I thought he was."

Clary whipped her head up. "You knew?"

Simon looked a bit afraid for a moment. "Yeah, remember that night at Pandemonium? When I went out to the alley after you freaked about his bloody nose?"

Clary nodded.

"I—well—I kinda helped him out then."

She raised her brows. "Helped him how and why?"

Simon removed his arm from her shoulder. "Okay, don't be mad."

"Why would I be mad that you helped him? Though I have to admit, him allowing you to surprises me."

"Well," Simon winced, "I don't necessarily think you'll be mad that I helped him but rather in the way I helped him."

Clary swallowed hard. "Simon . . . what are you talking about?"

"When I went out into the alley I recognized right away what was going on. He was rejecting. And, well, I knew the only way to help that was to drink blood."

Clary felt the heat rise to her face. "Drink—blood?"

Simon nodded. "He didn't tell you?"

Clary shook her head, unable to speak.

"Oh." Simon looked away quickly and swallowed. "Well, anyway, I gave him some of mine. Told him that's what he needed."

"And he—he—" Clary closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "He drank it?"

Simon shrugged. "Of course. It's what he needed."

"And now? Does he need it now?"

Simon narrowed his eyes at her. "Clary, what's going on? What aren't you telling me?"

Clary hesitated. She didn't know whether or not she wanted to tell Simon that Jace had bit her. His reaction may not help the situation very well. Unfortunately, Isabelle made the choice for her.

Plopping down beside Clary, a shopping bag hanging off both arms she said, "So, what'd you find out about Jace's new obsession with your hemoglobin?"

"Wh—what?" Simon sputtered and stood.

"Thanks Isabelle," Clary hissed before looking back to Simon. "We . . . uh . . . had a little incident. It's nothing, really."

Isabelle snorted. "Yeah, tell that to the bite marks on your neck."

"Izzy!" Clary said at the same time Simon shouted, "He bit you!"

Clary lowered her face to her hands and groaned. "Look, as if this isn't embarrassing enough for both of us, I just wanted to be discreet about this, okay?" She looked up, meeting Simon's livid eyes which kept wavering between her face and her neck. "He didn't mean it Simon."

"Didn't mean it? So that makes it okay?"

Anger rose up in Clary's chest and she stood, glaring up at him. "No. No one said it was _okay_, it's just what it is. He's totally freaked Simon! He says we can't be—close until he figures out what happened."

"Look, Clary." He reached forward and grabbed her shoulder. "Take it from me. Even though Jace isn't actually a vampire, whatever that stuff did to him is giving him the abilities and urges of one. And believe me when I tell you, once we get a taste of fresh stuff, we're going to want more. Do you know how long it took me to get over the urge to bite everyone after—well, you know?"

Clary jerked her arm away. "Jace can handle it. You did."

"Yeah, well, as much as Jace likes to allude to the opposite, I wasn't in love with the one I drank from. He is which adds a whole new dimension to the sickness of this." He met Clary's eyes. "He's had a taste—that in addition to how he feels about you, he may not be able to resist you next time."

"What are you saying?" Clary's heart beat faster in her chest.

"I'm saying that maybe Jace had it right when he suggested staying away from him."

"Yeah, Clary," Isabelle offered. "Especially since you seem to be the only one he wants."

"What?" Simon's eyes widened.

Clary felt the blood rush to her cheeks and she looked down at her feet.

"Uh huh." Isabelle glanced down at her nails and picked at a loose piece of skin next to one. "Apparently the only blood Jace is interested in is Clary's. Alec was cut this morning and Jace didn't even flinch."

"Well, that's . . . weird." Simon furrowed his brow and stared at nothing.

"Why is that weird?" Clary asked.

He glanced back at her. "Because, normally we don't care what blood it is. We may be more attracted to certain people but blood is blood, you know? The fact that he only seems to want yours is strange."

"Maybe it has something to do with that blood binding rune." Isabelle said absently.

"Yeah, maybe." Simon nodded.

"What? Why?" Clary said.

"We don't know much of anything about what that rune did." Isabelle said. "But we do know that it's connected you guys in some freaky way. Maybe that's why he seems to be drawn to your blood."

"True." Simon rubbed his chin. "You know, we crave what we need, you know like when you're deficient in something your body craves it. Maybe you have something he needs and that's why he wants only you."

"But what could I have?"

Simon shrugged. "Beats me."

"So, are you saying I should just . . . you know . . . let him drink from me?"

"No!" Simon's head whipped up. "That's not what I'm saying at all. Listen. This is not something to screw around with. Bloodlust is a really strong urge. Almost stronger than any other. If you were to try to let him, he may not be able to stop. He could drain you before he realized what he was doing."

Clary sat, leaned forward, and placed her head in her hands. "I'm so confused. What if it would help him? I mean, I'd do anything if it helped him. Even this."

Isabelle snorted. "Yeah, good luck getting Jace to see it that way."

"What do you mean?" Clary glanced up at her.

"I mean, Jace isn't an idiot. He knows drinking from you would be dangerous and there's no way he'd do it purposefully. No matter whether it would help him or not. He'd rather die than risk hurting you."

Clary groaned and lowered her face once more.

Simon sat back down beside her and reached out, placing his hand on her shoulder. "Hey, we don't even know if it would help him at all. So, until we know more. Maybe you should just try and forget about it?"

"Forget it?" She looked up. "How am I supposed to forget it? He thinks he needs to stay away from me. What if this is the answer. It would be so simple . . ."

"Clary." Simon's voice was stern. "This isn't something you want to screw around with—not without knowing for sure. If you provoke whatever is inside him—well, I can't even think about what could happen."

So many thoughts swirled in Clary's mind. What if this was the answer? What if it was this easy? Just a simple gesture. But what if it wasn't? What if it made things worse? What if he couldn't stop? He would never forgive himself if he hurt her—or worse. Could she take that risk for just a maybe? She knew he wouldn't, not if he wasn't certain. And even if he was, it would take a great deal of convincing to get him to try. He'd said himself that it was as if the bloodlust controlled him. It wasn't something he wanted to do, yet he couldn't stop himself when it started. Clary swallowed hard at the realization of what could have happened.

She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply before opening them again. Her jumbled emotions clouded her mind, making it nearly impossible to come to any sort of conclusion. "I need to clear my mind." She jumped up from the bench and started toward the subway.

"Where you going?" Isabelle called.

"I wanna dance. Come on." Clary kept walking, not bothering to look back and hoping the others were following close behind.

***

Jace and Alec entered Pandemonium exactly twenty minutes after Magnus instructed them to meet him there. The room pulsed in colored lights and bodies moved in strange contortions to the music. Jace and Alec moved to the back and slid into the chairs of a small round table.

Glancing around the room, looking for the sparkly warlock, Jace asked, "Why did he want to meet here? This doesn't really look like his thing."

Alec's eyes followed Jace's. "I don't know. He said he thought he knew someone who might be able to help and to meet him here. I guess maybe this 'someone' will be here too."

"Hmm," Jace said as he continued to scan the room. Habit made it impossible for him not to look for demons every time he came in there. Fortunately, for them, none seemed to have made an appearance that night. There were, however, several vampires, a few faeries, and—a witch and a warlock. One, the enigmatic Magnus—as sparkly as ever, and painted up in his normal fashion. And the other, a witch.

Compared to Magnus' hard, dark looks, this witch exuded cool softness. Her straight, bright-white hair hung to her hips and her eyes were such a light color blue they almost looked white. Paleness seemed to be a theme with her as her skin took on a cast as white as snow, and her clothing seemed almost as ethereal. The only spot of color on her were her soft pink lips which curved into a smile as she caught sight of Jace and Alec.

"I have arrived," Magnus announced as he neared the table, running his finger down Alec's neck.

"About time too," Jace answered. "We almost wondered if you'd decided to stand us up."

Magnus eyed him. "You, maybe." His eyes moved to Alec. "But him, never."

Alec's face turned the brightest shade of red Jace had ever seen. The look was so funny, Jace couldn't help the snort that escaped his lips, causing Alec's cheeks to grow impossibly darker. Alec shot him a dirty look before turning his gaze to the witch standing slightly away from the table.

"This is him, Lilliana." Magnus waved a hand nonchalantly in Jace's direction before turning to Alec once more and speaking to Lilliana with his back to her. "Be careful. He's a bit of an annoyance. I would apologize for subjecting you to him, but, well, better you than me." He grabbed Alec's hand and pulled him off to an empty table in the corner.

Jace turned to the white witch, his eyes narrowed and arms crossed over his chest. She studied him, her head cocked slightly to the side as her pale eyes roamed over him. Reaching out, she held her hand expectantly in front of him. He raised his brows and kept his arms clenched tightly against him.

Lilliana smiled. "I must touch you in order for it to work."

Jace feigned a shocked expression. "I hardly know you well enough to allow you to grope me."

Lilliana's grin widened. "A cocky one. I like that." A violet spark lighted in her outstretched palm. "If you'd like me to read you, you're just going to have to trust I won't take advantage of you."

Jace snorted. "Yes well, I never trust anyone so don't take it personally." He reached out and laid his hand in hers.

Lilianna's eyes widened and her head flung back as if she'd been shocked. Jace attempted to remove his hand, but her fingers closed in around it tighter than he'd expected her able. Slowly, her head rose and her eyes settled on his, a curious flicker darkening the blue hue. A huge smile spread over her pink lips.

"Now this is going to be interesting," she said.

***

Dancing had always been something Clary could use to help herself forget, to calm down. At the moment, she needed a clear mind more than anything. She couldn't, for the life of her, figure out what was going on. Was there something about her blood in particular that fueled Jace's bloodlust? Or was it more about the feelings he had for her? It just didn't make sense. If it was her blood and it was simply about that, why had it just happened now? Why hadn't he been uncontrollable the whole time? Did this mean he was getting worse? Shaking her head, she closed her eyes and focused on the pounding beat coming from the DJ booth.

Pandemonium was swarming that night. The perfect distraction for her muddled brain. Simon and Isabelle were too involved in their own little love circle to pay much attention to her. It was all right, she didn't really want or need any company at that point—except from the one person who she knew she couldn't be with right then.

The music invaded her mind, erasing all the questions bearing down on her as her body swayed to the melody. She felt as all the stress and fear melted away, leaving only her. A small smile tugged at her lips as she felt herself relax for the first time in a while. Suddenly, she felt another body rub up against hers. Her eyes flew open as she took in the boy dancing just behind her. He gave her a sly grin.

Uninterested, she moved a few steps away and immersed herself in her own movements once more, hoping he'd get the hint and move on to his next victim. Unfortunately, Romeo was rubbing up against her within moments. With a sigh, she whipped around, meeting his bright blue eyes.

"Look. I kinda want to dance alone, okay?"

He smirked. "Oh, come on, baby. It's just one little dance." With that he reached forward and dug his fingers into her hip and pulled her forward, smashing her body into his."

***

"Oh yeah?" Jace asked, finally curious as to what the witch was seeing. "I've been known to fascinate many."

Lilliana smiled and then narrowed her eyes. "Magnus brought me up to speed on your—predicament. I can see where he was confused. I can feel the virus attacking your body, unable to find a way in—yet."

"Yet? What do you mean yet?"

Lilliana closed her eyes and reached up, grabbing Jace's hand between both of hers. "Your immunity is incomplete." Her gaze found his. "You are missing something. The thing that would have obliterated these viruses almost immediately."

"What are you—" Just then, Jace's eyes spotted something he didn't expect to see. A flash of red. Tangled, fiery red. He knew that color, that hair, almost better than his own. Clary. She swayed in the middle of a crowd, her eyes closed and her arms stretched up over her head. His heart pounded at the sight of her, wanting nothing more than to go to her.

Lilliana's gaze followed his, her brows rising at the realization of what he was looking at. Her grip tightened on his hand and the spark between them grew hotter. Before Jace could tear his eyes away from Clary long enough to ask Lilliana what she was doing, a guy appeared behind Clary, pressing his body up against hers. Heat shot through Jace the moment the sleazebag came in contact with her. Immediately, Clary moved away, and Jace's pulse slowed. Lilliana studied him curiously.

As much as he wanted to, Jace could not move his gaze from the redhead. The way her body moved made him nearly insane. It was almost as if she was, unknowingly, taunting him. Beckoning him to her. He wanted to be with her, holding her, moving with her. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, trying to push the thoughts from his mind, but the moment he opened them again, the idiot from before had weaseled himself back to Clary, trapping her against his body.

Rage exploded behind Jace's eyes as the guy's fingers clutched at her hips, digging in and dragging her to him roughly. Jace's breathing sped as he watched Clary tell the guy off and try to push him away, only resulting in the idiot tightening his grip with one arm and grabbing her wrists in the other.

Jace ripped his hand away from Lilliana, her expression rife with surprise. "Oh hell no," he said as he pushed his way onto the crowded dance floor.

***

Clary shoved against the creepy guy's chest. "I told you I'm not interested, so get your damn hands off me!"

"It's just one dance. Quit being such a tease." The guy grabbed her wrists tightly in one hand, securing them against his chest as he wrapped his other hand snuggly around her waist. She tried to lift her leg to knee him in the groin, but he had her pinned against him.

Scowling at him, she wrenched against his hold on her arms only to have him tighten it once again. "Ow! If you don't let me go right now—"

Creepy guy's eyes widened as his arm suddenly wrenched away from her back. His grip fell away from her wrists and she stumbled back into someone standing directly behind her. Glancing up she started as she saw Jace, clutching the guy's arm in his hand.

"You all right?" he asked, keeping his eyes fixed on creepy guy.

"Jace? What are you—?"

"Hey, man. We were just dancing," Creepy guy said. "No big deal."

"Funny." Jace's eyes narrowed. "It looked to me like she was dancing and you were groping."

"What do you care?" Jerk asked.

Clary felt Jace's body tense. "Jace," she said. "It's fine." She pulled against his arm.

Jace ignored her. "What do I care?" He took a step closer; grabbing creepy's shirt and lifting him a few inches off the ground.

Clary glanced around, noticing the circle of stares surrounding them. "Jace," she said again.

"What do I care?" he repeated, still paying no attention to Clary or the stillness of the people surrounding them. "First of all, she didn't give you an invitation to touch her. And second, that's my girl you're trying to feel up and I'm not in the sharing mood."

"Your girl, huh? Well, maybe you should tell her to tone down the moves a bit and quit teasing every male in the vicinity."

Clary closed her eyes, knowing this wouldn't end well. She had to wonder if this guy had any brains at all. Here he was, being held off the ground by an obviously very pissed off Jace, yet he taunted and called his girlfriend a tease. No good could come of this at all. She placed her hand on Jace's shoulder and felt his tenseness lessen under her touch. "Jace. People are staring. Please."

Jace stepped closer to idiot boy, his face only inches away. "You're lucky there are all these people here because if they weren't I would have ripped your hands off for touching my girl."

The boy swallowed, his cocky face faltering.

With much restraint, Jace loosened his hold and half-dropped half-threw jerk boy from his grasp. The boy landed hard, his hands barely catching him as he sprawled across the dance floor. Standing up quickly and glancing around, he disappeared into the crowd.

After a moment, the gawkers went back to dancing, surrounding Jace and Clary with a swarm of gyrating bodies. Jace stood perfectly still except for the slight trembling no one but Clary noticed. She reached forward and placed her hands on his shoulders, trying to calm him. He turned slowly until he faced her. She could see the rage still in his eyes.

"I could have handled him, you know," she said.

He closed his eyes briefly before opening them again. "Maybe so, but do you think I could just stand back and watch some other idiot have his hands all over you?"

Clary swallowed, her pulse racing in her veins. God, how she wanted him to pull her to him. Deciding that he wouldn't given their earlier conversation, she reached out and twisted her hands in his shirt dragging him roughly against her.

"Clary," he warned.

She looked up at him, their faces only inches apart. "There are too many people here. You won't do anything."

His face drifted closer to hers, his breathing ragged. "I can't. God, Clary—"

Clary wrapped her arms around his back, pressing him as tightly as she could against her. "Dance with me. Hold me. I need to feel you. Please."

She felt him take in a sharp breath before he closed his eyes and lowered his forehead to hers. "Clary—"

"Please," she whispered, refusing to release him and started to move against him.

He groaned and wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her so tightly she could hardly breathe. His fingers dug into her flesh as he moved with her. She smiled and buried her face in his chest, losing herself completely in him.

After a moment, she felt him still. Confused, she looked up to see what was wrong only to find he wasn't looking at her. His gaze was focused on a very white girl in front of him. Her entire body seemed to glow in brightness. Her eyes were fixed on them, a small smirk playing at the corner of her lips.

"Now I see," she said.

Clary looked at her stupidly, not having a clue who she was or what she was talking about.

"You see what?" Jace asked.

Clary whipped her head up to him, wanting to ask if he knew this girl.

"She completes you," the girl said simply.

"What? What are you talking about?" he asked.

"Oh," her eyes moved between Clary and Jace, "I think you know."

* * *

**Alright then. This chapter was so hard to write. My brain hurts now, LOL! I hope it was a fun read. No fluff, and only a very tiny basassyness (I gotta use Jace's 'assyness' word) from Jace. Transition chapters are my nemesis.**

**Good stuff is coming…but I'm not sure when…sigh. Anyway, I'd love to hear your comments! **

**Oh, BTW, I have kind of a request. Is anyone here good at making posters (you know on photoshop or whatever?) Cause I would love one to put up on my ROGUE page and for my profile. I have kind of a specific idea of what I want though. *blush*. If anyone can and wants to help out, send me a PM. I may just reward you with a one shot or something...;)  
**


	44. Chapter 44

**Okay, here we go! Eeek! We are so close you guys, so close. Only a few more chapters left! This was another tough chapter for me to write…mostly because I couldn't find a good song to convey what I wanted in the beginning scenes. At least I had a good one for the last scene! And remember—no Jace bashing allowed! ;) **

**Chapter Song:**

_**Your Guardian Angel**_** by The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus (last scene) (Thanks katib kat for the song rec!) This song is sooooooooooooooo good for this part!**

* * *

Jace eyed the witch, having no idea what she meant by Clary completing him, but had to give her props for the cheesy movie line. He gave her a stupid look, trying to indicate that very fact. She rolled her eyes and gestured at them with her pointer finger.

"Come." She turned and walked toward the back of the club near where Magnus and Alec were nestled into a small private corner. Gesturing to a table, she said, "Please sit."

Clary stood unmoving and glaring at the witch. "Who are you?"

"Clary, this is Lilliana. She came with Magnus," Jace said. "He brought her to try and help with my—our—situation."

Clary glanced at the witch, her brows raised and eyes wide. "You're a friend of Magnus'?"

Lilliana laughed. "Friend is not a word I would use to describe myself in relation to Magnus Bane, no. He contacted me because he thought my—talents, may be of use to you."

"What kind of talents?" Clary crossed her arms in front of her and stiffened her stance.

Jace couldn't help the grin that tweaked his lips. He loved when she stood her ground, asserted her power. It also drove him completely mad the way she bit the inside of her mouth and tapped the toes of her right foot whenever she tried to look threatening. He'd never tell her all it really did was make her look cute.

Lilliana held out her hand, the violet spark igniting instantly. "It is best if I show you."

Clary eyed the witch's outstretched hand warily. Jace leaned in and whispered, "It's okay, she's already done me."

Clary raised her brows once more and gave him a suggestively disbelieving look. Jace let out a sigh that was more of a groan. "You know what I mean." He shook his head and grinned. "And Isabelle calls me the pervert." Pulling out a chair, he gestured to it. "Come on."

She watched him for a moment before relenting and sitting down. He sat next to her. Lilliana slowly retracted her hand and lowered herself to the seat across from them both.

"I can see that you are wary of me." Lilliana placed her elbows on the table and leaned forward, her hair floating down and brushing along the smooth top. "But I assure you, I mean you no harm. I only wish to help." She smiled. "My gifts allow me to see inside of humans. Whereas Magnus can sense things that have been magically done to you, I can as well, but can also sense physical, emotional, and spiritual things." Her eyes studied Clary intently. "I have an idea of what is going on, and if you'll trust me, I think I can know for sure." She reached her hand out once more.

Jace's gaze wavered between the two. The witch extended her arm, palm up, the violet flame covering her skin flickered toward Clary. Clary glanced down at the witches engulfed fingers, took a deep breath and laid her hand on top. Lilliana's eyes closed and her breath hitched, her head falling forward. After a moment she raised her face to them once more, a small smile played at the edges of her mouth.

"Touch each other, please."

Jace raised his brows and looked over at Clary. She met his eyes, her own large and curious. Reaching out, he held his hand up in front of her. She glanced down and slowly slid her tiny palm onto his, her fingers slipping between his and wrapping around to grip him tightly. The same warmth that always accompanied her touch shot through him. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, savoring the feel of her soft skin against his. When he opened them again, Lillianna was staring at them both, her mouth fixed into a knowing grin.

"So?" he asked.

Lilliana removed her hand from Clary's and grasped her own, folding them in front of her. "Before I tell you what I saw let me explain to you how my abilities work. When I touch you, your essence is revealed to me. All things that make you who you are, physically, spiritually, everything, I see. In ordinary circumstances the whole essence or 'being' of a person appears as a purple haze—"

"Like an aura?" Clary interrupted.

Lilliana grinned and nodded. "Sort of, yes. It's a bit more complicated than that, but all of the mechanics of it don't really matter for this." She turned her gaze to Jace. "When I touched you earlier, your essence appeared a dull blue. Not purple like normal. This is how I knew you were incomplete." Her eyes moved to Clary's. "Just now, yours was red. Again incomplete. But when you touched both turned purple."

"But on the dance floor—" Jace began, "you said she completed me. You weren't touching either of us. How did you know?"

She smiled. "Another ability. I'm also an empath. I can sense emotions. When you were here alone, I could feel the emptiness, pain, and sorrow that filled you." Her gaze shifted between him and Clary. "But when you held her, those things disappeared and you were no longer deficient. No longer broken. The holes in your soul were filled by her. Completed."

Lilliana reached out, grabbing Jace's right and Clary's left hands, turning them palm up and revealing the remnants of the binding rune. Clary's was completely black whereas Jace's was black with portions of white. "Do you see the differences?" Lilliana asked.

Clary grabbed Jace's hand and brought it close to her face, her eyes widening in the realization that it was not the same as hers. "I never noticed this before." Her gaze shifted to Jace's. "Did you?"

He shook his head. And he hadn't. Truth be told, he hadn't really even paid much attention to the mark on his hand. He had so many scars and runes that he barely noticed them at all anymore.

Lilliana gently removed Jace's palm from Clary's grasp. Pointing to the mark she said, "The black portions represent the parts of the rune which are shared." She glanced up. "I sense you share some sort of emotional bond?"

Jace and Clary nodded in unison.

Lilliana nodded in return. "But these," she traced the white portions, "are pieces of his essence in which he lost when you took his pain." She looked at Clary. "Bindings are unpredictable. One never knows just how they might work because depending on the situation and people involved, a number of different things can happen." She paused and took a breath. "Because of your—differences from normal Shadowhunters, the rune reacted differently for you than it might otherwise. When you took his pain, you did protect him, but you also took some of his immunity. Obviously, since the serum did not bind to him he kept some, but the parts that would fight off some of the lasting effects is missing which is why he is symptomatic. You hold these parts inside of you."

Clary glanced at Jace, her eyes even wider than before. "So how do we fix it?"

Lilliana stared straight at Jace, her face containing not a hint of playfulness. "He needs to not resist the blood."

"But I haven't been." He caught Clary's surprised look out of the corner of his eye. "I've been taking it when the symptoms come."

Lilliana shook her head slowly. "That's not what I mean, and I think you know that."

He raised his brows and stared at her.

She sighed. "It is not just any blood you must not resist."

He shook his head faster, finally realizing what she was saying. "No."

Clary glanced between the two of them. Her brows pulled together in confusion. "What?" She turned to Jace. "What is she talking about?"

Jace closed his eyes and continued to shake his head. There was no way. No _way_.

"Yes," Lilliana said.

"Will one of you please tell me what the hell you're talking about?" Clary nearly yelled.

Jace opened his eyes but continued his constant head shaking, in denial of what the witch was saying.

Lilliana sighed and met Clary's gaze. "The only thing that will save him now is to cease in his resistance to the blood. Your blood."

***

Her blood. That was it? Just her blood? Clary couldn't help the grin that spread over her lips. All along she had the power. The power to save Jace. To make him well again.

"That's it?" she whispered. "He needs to drink my blood and that will cure him?"

Lilliana nodded just as Jace whipped his face toward Clary. "That's it? Seriously Clary? You think this is just some little tiny thing? Are you really that insane?"

"What?" She stared at him, her eyes wide. "I have the cure Jace. Right here!" She pointed to the tiny blue veins at her wrist. "This whole time—it's been right here! Just a little bit of blood. Let's go, we could do it now!"

Jace's mouth dropped open and his brows drew together. Clary couldn't understand what his problem was. She could do it. It would be so easy.

Lilliana cleared her throat causing Clary to shift her gaze from Jace. "Yes, well. It's a _little_ more complicated than that."

Clary's heart dropped into her stomach. "Complicated how?"

Lilliana's gaze shifted between Jace and Clary. "It won't take just a little bit of blood." She paused. "It will actually take quite a significant amount."

"How much?" Clary whispered, her chest tightening.

"Enough to make it dangerous for you."

Jace stood abruptly, his chair flying out from behind him and clattering to the floor. "No. I won't do it." He turned to Clary. "I won't do it, Clary."

She slammed her hands on the table and stood next to him. "Why not?"

"Why not?" He narrowed his eyes. "Do you really have to ask me that?"

"So you'd rather die than let me help you?"

"In this instance, yes."

"Jace, don't be ridiculous." She shook her head and looked away.

He reached forward and grasped her chin, forcing her to meet his angry gaze. "No. You don't be ridiculous. Do you understand this? Do you even grasp the meaning of any of this?"

"I'm not stupid, Jace. But I'm beginning to wonder if you understand either." She took a deep breath. "You. Will. Die. Do you get that? Die. Gone. Forever."

He lowered his voice. "You could too."

Clary reached out and took his hand, bringing it up to her cheek and leaning into it. "No. I won't. I know you wouldn't."

Jace brought his other hand up and cupped her face. "I don't. You don't know how hard it was to stop earlier. How much I wanted to devour you. I don't know that I could stop. I won't chance that Clary. No matter what."

Clary felt tears build in her eyes, her vision blurring. "Please, Jace. Let me help you. Let me save you."

He leaned down and pressed his forehead to hers. "I'm sorry. No." With that, he pulled away and made his way toward the front doors.

For a moment Clary stood there, too stunned to move. The only thing that brought her out of her shock was the feel of Lilliana's hand on her arm. She turned to her slowly, her brain not really functioning through the fog.

"You must go to him. Convince him, Clary."

Clary shook her head. "You don't know Jace. If he doesn't want to do something he won't do it."

Lilliana's grip on Clary's arm tightened. "You must make him." Her eyes bored into Clary's. "Do you understand?"

Somewhere through the fog, Clary grasped this concept. She knew there was no choice. Jace was far too stubborn. Far too protective to see reason. But she would not give up. Not until he relented. Not until he took from her what he needed to get well. She needed him. There was no way she'd let him go, especially when she had the ability and power to save him. Determination rose up inside her and she met Lilliana's eyes and nodded once.

Lilliana smiled. "Go. Now."

Clary spun on her heel and plunged into the crowd, pushing against the dancing mundanes, trying to make her way to Jace. When the doors were finally in sight and she let out a sigh of relief, she ran right into someone, almost knocking her on her behind. She looked up and groaned when she saw whose hands were gripping her shoulders.

"Back for more, Sweetness?" Creepy guy smiled back at her.

Clary reached up and tugged his hands off her shoulders. "Back off asshat."

Jerk looked around. "Where's your boyfriend? Not here to defend your honor this time?"

Clary rolled her eyes. "Okay, I don't have time for this." Cocking back her fist, she let it fly and connected right with Creepy's face.

Blood spurted from his nose as his hands came up to cup it. He shouted a few obscenities and called her a number of dirty names before sinking to the ground.

Ignoring his shouts, she stepped over him, the crowd parting to let her through. Apparently socking a guy in the face scares people off. Who knew?

Once she reached the door, she rushed outside, glancing back and forth, hoping to catch a glimpse of Jace. Unsurprisingly, he was nowhere in sight. Without a second thought, she gripped her jacket, pulling it tighter around her and took off running in the direction of home.

***

Upon reaching the Institute, Clary stopped at her room first, knowing there were a few things she would need. She grabbed them and rushed out into the hall, heading for the one place she knew he'd be.

The metal stairs clanged under her feet. Her breath came in gasps and her chest ached with anxiety. But no matter how she felt, she would not give in. She would cure him tonight, whether he liked it or not.

When she reached the roof she flung open the door and peered out into the darkness toward the greenhouse. A dull light shone from inside. Taking a deep breath, she started forward, pushing back the fear that threatened to stop her. This was Jace, she didn't need to be afraid. No matter how much he didn't trust himself, she knew him, knew he would never hurt her. She had faith in him and his love for her. Enough to risk everything, even her own life to save him.

Opening the door, she stepped inside. He stood with his back to her, near the rear, gazing out the window. Slowly, she made her way toward him, her heart pounding in her chest. Not necessarily in fear for herself, but that she wouldn't be able to convince him.

She knew he had to sense her, yet he didn't move. Light from the lantern sitting on the table next to him flickered over his form, casting him in and out of shadows. Finally, she stood directly behind him. Reaching out with shaking hands, she laid them on his upper arms. Still he didn't move. Clary leaned forward and pressed her forehead into the space between his shoulder blades.

"Jace, please," she whispered.

"I can't, Clary."

She moved her head back and tugged at him, wanting him to face her. "Look at me."

Slowly, he turned, his face drawn and sad. She reached up and ran her fingers over his cheeks. Pulling gently, she brought his lips to hers, and softly, so softly, she kissed him. "I know you're scared. I am too," she said. "But I'm even more scared of losing you. This is forever, Jace. If you don't do this, you'll be taking you away from me forever. I can't let you do that."

He closed his eyes and breathed out, defeat coming off him in waves. "I don't want to, Clary."

"I know." She lifted her lips and peppered soft kisses across his cheeks, nose, eyes, and forehead. "I know you don't. But please, _please_, for me. Please." Her grip on his face tightened.

"I—I don't think I can." His voice shook.

"I'll help you," Clary said as she stepped back and pulled her hoodie off, revealing only a small tank top underneath. She dropped it to the floor, Jace's eyes never leaving her, and reached to her side, drawing out one of her small silver daggers. Looking down, she dragged her thumb along the sharp blade. A thin bead of blood welled on her fingertip, staining the knife.

She glanced up at Jace. He stopped breathing, his eyes wide and dark. Stepping closer to him once more, she lifted her bleeding thumb to him, tracing his lips with the dark liquid. He closed his eyes and let out the breath he was holding. Rolling his lips in, he licked the blood off, his face contorting in disgust and desire.

"It's okay," Clary said softly and placed her unbleeding hand on his cheek.

He opened his eyes, the pain in them nearly ripping her apart.

"It'll be over soon," she whispered. "I promise." Leaning forward, she brushed her lips against his once more before moving back and swiping the blood from her thumb over the spot he'd bitten earlier in the day. "I trust you."

Jace didn't move toward her. He just stood there, his body shaking with restraint and need. His chest heaved with frantic breaths. She knew how much he didn't want to do this, but that her spilled blood was almost too much for him to bear.

Moving closer to him, she pushed aside the strap of her tank top and reached for him. He backed up and shook his head, but she already had her fist twisted into his shirt. Pulling him to her, she held him close and stood on tip toes, brushing her mouth against his. After a moment, she trailed across his jaw, positioning him just above the blood smear she'd left on her neck. His body stiffened and his breath fanned across her bare skin causing her to shiver involuntarily. She felt his soft lips touch just under her ear.

"Clary . . ." he trailed off.

She slid her hands up to his shoulders and tugged against him. "Please."

He let out a shuddering breath just as she felt him move to the spot where her neck and shoulder met. She closed her eyes and dropped her head back. His mouth pressed into her and his tongue swiped against her skin. Her hands gripped at his shirt and her breathing sped. Just when she thought she couldn't take it anymore, she felt it. A sharp pain, splitting her skin, and warm liquid trailing from the spot. She gasped and wrapped her arms tightly around Jace, one of her hands making its way into his hair and clutching him to her. Euphoria filled her just like before. Pleasure overshadowing the pain.

This time he did not pull away. His body trembled against her, but she held on, willing him to take all he needed. Begging silently for it to work, to bring him back the way he was. His arms snaked around her, pulling her flush against him. Her fingers dug into his shoulder as he drew from her.

Exhaustion hit her suddenly. Her body felt as though she was falling down into an endless abyss. Clutching at Jace, she tried to maintain her hold but her fingers wouldn't work. They grew stiff and weak. She tried opening her eyes, but her lids were heavy and felt glued together. Opening her mouth, she tried to speak. "Jace." It came out only a whisper but it was something. Grasping the last shred of consciousness she had left she said, "I love you." And her hands slipped from him, her body falling limp and lifeless in his arms.

* * *

**Yep, you bet your butt you're getting a cliffy. (sticks tongue out like a child). Sorry, but sometimes you just NEED a cliffy. Hehehe! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! The next one will start out in Jace's POV of the last scene. Reviews make me smile and just MIGHT lead to the return of Jace's boxer briefs…;)**

**Fluff lovers—oh, it's coming, don't you worry. It's coming…**

**Oh, and just in case you're interested. I have a blog dedicated to Rogue. I've placed photos of each character (the way I see them), a few banners/posters for the story. Just fun stuff. And a place I might place some extra scenes I come up with as well. :) Link is in my profile!**


	45. Chapter 45

**You guys are so awesome! I've so loved your reviews! And you were so good about no Jace bashing *muah*. **

**Well, here we go with chapter 45 (45!!!). As promised, it starts off with Jace's POV of the last scene from the previous chapter and continues from there. :) I can't even believe it's gotten this long! Eeeep! Only a chapter or two left I think…sniff. But, I think there might be something here you'll all like…;)**

**Chapter Songs:**

_**Save the Hero**_** by Beyonce Scene 1**

_**Broken**_** by Lifehouse Scene 2**

****Characters are the property of Cassandra—though I still own the underwear!!****

* * *

Jace felt her at his back, her hands gripping his arms and her face nestled between his shoulder blades. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, wanting nothing more than to turn around and hold her tightly against him. To feel her tiny frame safe in his embrace and assure her that everything would be okay. But his embrace wasn't safe, his touch no longer good for her. He knew this now better than ever. The witch had confirmed his biggest fear. Clary was the key. The one thing he wasn't supposed to resist. But how could he do it? How could he risk her life just to save his own? She was more important to him than he was. She was better than him. In every way.

Her whispered voice broke through his thoughts. "Jace, please."

His body stiffened and his breath hitched. "I can't, Clary."

He felt a tug at his shoulders. "Look at me," she said.

Sucking in a deep breath, he closed his eyes. The twisting pain in his gut urged him to listen, but his head screamed caution. Knowing Clary as he did, she would not give up. She would insist even if it killed her. The thought of her pale and lifeless, her blood pulsing through his veins instead of hers, turned his stomach yet also awakened the beast inside him that called out for her. Very slowly, he opened his eyes and turned to face her. She stared up at him, her gaze wide and pleading. His heart jumped, thudding an unnaturally fast rhythm against his ribs. He would do anything for this girl, anything. All she need do was ask and he would melt in her able hands. But more than anything he wished she wouldn't ask. Silently, he prayed she wouldn't ask. The look in her eyes told him his prayers would go unanswered.

She lifted her hands to his face, running her fingers along his cheekbones, her touch so light, so soft against his rough skin. All of her love poured into the gentle feathering across his jaw. Pulling gently, she brought his lips to hers, kissing him with a tenderness he didn't deserve. "I know you're scared. I am too," she said. "But I'm even more scared of losing you. This is forever, Jace. If you don't do this, you'll be taking you away from me forever. I can't let you do that."

He closed his eyes and breathed out, his heart skipping a couple beats. No matter what decision he made, he would hurt her in some way. His body screamed out for him to take her, and her pleas asked him the same thing. "I don't want to, Clary."

"I know." She lifted her face, scattering soft kisses across his cheeks, nose, eyes, and forehead. "I know you don't. But please, _please_, for me. Please." Her fingers tightened their grip on his cheeks.

"I—I don't think I can." Fear crowded into his throat, nearly closing around his voice.

"I'll help you," she said as she stepped back and pulled her hoodie off, revealing only a small tank top underneath.

As she dropped it to the floor, Jace's eyes never left her. His mind begged her to stop, to walk away now, but his voice remained silent. He watched as she reached to her side, drawing out one of her small silver daggers. His stomach convulsed as she dragged her thumb along the sharp blade and a thin bead of blood welled on her fingertip. The ravenous hunger was back, twisting and curling his insides into a series of knots.

He tried to stop breathing in an effort to clear his mind of the intoxicating essence of her swirling around him, clutching at him with outstretched claws. Stepping closer to him once more, she lifted her bleeding thumb, tracing his lips with the sweet liquid. He closed his eyes and let out the breath he was holding. The draw to consume was almost unbearable now. He could no longer resist a taste. Pulling his lip in between his teeth, he flicked his tongue out and licked the blood off. His stomach twisted again, crying out in agony and pleasure. It wanted more. He wanted more. The idea both excited and disgusted him.

"It's okay," Clary said softly and placed her unbleeding hand on his cheek.

He opened his eyes, imploring her once more to run, just run. God he didn't want to _do_ this. But the monster roared inside him, overtaking his senses, building and building until the only thing he could really comprehend was the unwavering need.

"It'll be over soon," she whispered. "I promise." Leaning forward, she brushed her lips against his once more before moving back and swiping the blood from her thumb over the shining silver scars in the shape of his teeth. "I trust you."

Jace didn't move toward her. He just stood there, his body shaking with restraint and need. His chest heaved with frantic breaths. The pain built even further, crawling from his stomach all the way up into his chest and finally his throat. He could smell _her_, and he wanted her more than anything else.

Moving closer to him, she pushed aside the strap of her tank top and reached for him. He backed up and shook his head, but she already had her fist twisted into his shirt. God she needed to move away, he couldn't contain it much longer. He wanted to scream at her, push her away, tell her how much danger she was in at that moment, but his voice stayed locked in his tight throat. Pulling him to her, she held him close and stood on tip toes, brushing her mouth against his once more. After a moment, she trailed kisses across his jaw, positioning him just above the blood smear she'd left on her neck. His body stiffened as its pungent aroma, so close and inviting, invaded his senses. The effect on him was almost instantaneous. His heart nearly stopped as a rush of fiery need thrust up into his throat, propelling him forward.

Touching his lips to the skin just under her ear, he managed one last appeal, "Clary . . ."

She slid her hands up to his shoulders and tugged against him. "Please."

He let out a shuddering breath, the need crippling his self control for a final time, and he trailed his mouth along her skin, ending where her neck and shoulder met. When he felt her head fall back he pressed his mouth against her soft flesh, swiping his tongue over the blood smear she'd placed there. A shiver shot through his body as the monster roared inside him. Clary's hands gripped at his shirt and her breathing sped. Her response along with the almost debilitating desire building inside him became too much and he closed his eyes, biting down.

Jace wanted to fight against it, wanted to pull away, but when she gasped and wrapped her arms tightly around him, one of her hands making its way into his hair and clutching him to her, he could no longer form a coherent thought. All of his will drowned into the sea of warmth flowing into his mouth and down his throat, coating everything in its healing thickness. The pain ceased almost instantly, just like before, but as he continued, he noticed an unfamiliar feeling growing in his stomach. It started pleasurably but after a bit turned hot, so hot it was almost uncomfortable. It grew and grew, spreading from that point outward in waves. Swell after swell of blistering heat, scorching everything in its path.

It was at that moment something broke through the bloodlust. A tiny voice barely whispering his name.

"Jace."

His mind struggled to take hold of his body, commanding it to listen, to let go, stop.

"I love you," she said and her grip fell from him, her head lulling back and her body flopping like a ragdoll in his arms.

The feel of her dead weight along with the searing pain flowing through his body snapped him back from where he'd been. He jerked his face away from her, releasing her flesh from between his teeth. Ignoring his own agony, he looked up to her. Her skin had lost nearly all its color and glimmered pale and lifeless in the glow of the lantern.

With a gasp, he moved one of his hands up and cupped her neck while the other stayed firmly wrapped around her waist. Her pulse felt faint under his fingers. His legs trembled with the burning pain, giving out beneath him and dropping him to his knees, Clary's body clutched tightly against him. He slid his hand up to the base of her head, lifting her face to his. Her eyes remained shut, her breathing erratic.

"Clary." He removed the hand from around her waist and brushed the hair away from her face and neck, his breath catching when his gaze landed on the seeping wound on her shoulder. "Jesus, Clary." Fumbling at his pocket, he drew out his stele, etching an iratze on her limp wrist. The faint burning smell tainted the air around them.

Pain pulsed through him, but nothing mattered except her. She felt so light and helpless. Jace pulled her head against his shoulder and buried his face in her hair. "Open your eyes, Clary. Please, God, open your eyes." His body curled in around her, cocooning her in his arms. He barely noticed the burning anymore. The only thing he was completely aware of was the girl he held against him and the grief crushing his chest. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please open your eyes. Please be all right."

His eyes stung as he clung to her, feeling her tiny frame against him, smelling her scent. Not the smell of her blood, just her. Her soap, her laundry detergent, _her_. "Come back," he said through the lump in his throat, his voice rough and shaking. "I need you. Please Clary."

An eternity seemed to pass as he sat there, clinging to her, rocking back and forth, begging her to open her eyes before he felt her stir in his arms. "Jace," she breathed.

He wrenched his head back, grabbing her face in his hands. "Clary!" His eyes traveled over her face, her color was pinking up.

"Jace," she said again.

She had yet to open her eyes but her spoken words were enough for him. The tears he'd held at bay slipped out and fell down his cheeks as he leaned forward and touched his forehead to hers. Her hand rose weakly and cupped his face.

"Why are you crying?" she asked.

He couldn't hold back a laugh as he ran his fingers through the hair above her ears. "Because you're here. You didn't leave."

"Of course I didn't leave." Her voice was still weak and her eyes still closed. "You're not getting rid of me that easily."

"Good." He kissed the end of her nose. "I was so scared. I thought I'd—" His voice caught.

Finally, she opened her eyes, her lids still drooping. "I knew you wouldn't." Her fingers trailed over his face.

"I almost did. You don't know how close it was. If you hadn't—If you hadn't said you—you loved me, I'm not sure I would have stopped."

A small smile spread across her lips as her eyes closed again. "Jace." She took a deep breath. "I'm—I'm so tired."

Jace pulled her forward and buried her face in his shoulder once more. "I know. It's okay now. Everything's fine. Sleep." She didn't answer, already surrendered to her exhaustion. He slid one of his arms under her legs, keeping the other wrapped firmly around her back and stood, realizing that the burn was gone. There was no way to know if the affects of the serum were gone, only time would tell that, but for now he felt good, normal. Hugging Clary close to him as he headed back into the Institute, he placed a kiss to her forehead and whispered, "Thank you. You brave, crazy, rash, unthinking girl. I love you."

***

Something fine and immensely soft tickled Clary's fingers. She moved them, trying to distinguish what caused the sensation, but found her hand weighed down. Opening her eyes, she was met with darkness. Under her, she felt a bed, and wondered how she got there. The last thing she remembered was being in the greenhouse with Jace, tempting him to drink her blood. Her breath hitched. Jace. Turning her head, she peered to her side. At the edge of her bed, he knelt as if in prayer. His head lay on her mattress, asleep, his hand clutching hers and his hair brushing against her fingers. Tears pricked her eyes at the sight of him there with her. She reached over and trailed her fingers through the soft curls covering his forehead. He stirred under her touch and lifted his head. Tired golden eyes met hers. They widened slightly before a small half-grin lifted one corner of his mouth.

"Hey," she said as she continued to stroke his hair.

He let out a breath and lowered his face, his forehead resting against their entwined knuckles, and whispered something that sounded like, "Thank you." When he raised his head, unshed tears filled his eyes. "Hey." His voice was quiet and raw.

Clary's chest clenched and tears immediately sprang to her own eyes as she held out her arms to him. He bolted up and immediately smothered her in his embrace, his body trembling against hers.

"God, Clary. Do you know how scared I was?" he said into her shoulder.

"I'm sorry."

He pulled back and grasped her face. "No. Don't you say that. I'm the one who's sorry. I'm so sorry."

She reached up and mimicked his hold on his own cheeks. "Are you okay? Did it work?"

He cast his eyes down. "I don't know. I'm not sure there's been enough time."

She ran her fingers over his cheeks, savoring the feel of his skin under hers. "How do you feel?"

His gaze met hers. "Fine. I feel fine."

She smiled. "Fine is good."

He chuckled and looked down before meeting her eyes again. "What about you?" His fingers trailed down her neck and lingered over the bite mark on her shoulder. He swallowed hard. "How do you feel?"

Pulling his face forward, she brushed her lips against his. "Perfect," she said against his mouth. "I feel absolutely perfect."

Slowly, he ran his hand back up her neck and cupped her cheek again, kissing her back softly. Breaking away, he leaned his forehead against hers, his eyes closed. "Why did you do that, Clary? I could have—" His voice caught.

Clary shook her head, her fingers still caressing his skin. "Because I can't be without you. I don't want to."

His hands left her face and wrapped around her wrists, pulling her from his face. Meeting her eyes he said, "Don't say that."

"Why not? It's the truth. I told you before, I lost you once and I can't do that again. Not if there's something I can do about it."

Anger flashed in his eyes. "Even if that means risking your own life?"

"Yes. Even then. You would do it."

He opened his mouth to respond and closed it before speaking. "That's different."

"How? Explain to me how it's different?"

He dropped her hands and sat back. "It just is."

Clary smiled and scooted over until she sat on her knees directly in front of him. "For someone with an ego as big as yours I just can't believe you can't see what I do." She reached forward once more, taking his face in her hands, pulling him to her and placing a soft kiss on his lips. "You are everything good in my life. Everything. You may be a conceited ass and more stubborn than anyone I know, but I love you. Every single part of you. I wish you could feel it—what I feel for you." Just then, an idea formed in her mind. Maybe she could show him. Maybe she could make him feel everything she did, then maybe he'd understand. So far, they'd only been able to share strong, volatile emotions such as anger and fear. But she was certain there was nothing stronger than what she felt for him.

Letting go of his face, she reached for his right hand. She flipped it over, examining the now completely black rune covering his palm. Raising her gaze to his, she smiled. "I want to try something."

He raised his brows in question. She didn't answer and closed hers, pressing her rune marked palm against his. Reaching into herself, she pulled out every moment she could. The first time he'd touched her, sending that initial spark of want through her, their first kiss, the first time she saw the real him behind his tough façade, the soft, gentle touches, the passionate ones, and every other touch in between. All the moments that together made her love him. She concentrated on how she felt all those times and let it build inside her, until it was almost more than she could bear to contain.

She heard his breath catch and she finally opened her eyes. He stared back at her, his expression full of surprised disbelief. "Did you feel that?" she asked quietly.

He nodded, never moving his gaze from hers.

"That's how much I love you and the reason why I would risk anything for you. Why you are worth my life and so much more. You told me once that I was your everything. Well, you're mine and I couldn't let you go. I can't ever let you go."

For a moment, it felt as if time stopped. Clary didn't move, she didn't even breathe, waiting for his response. But he didn't respond with words, he simply leaned forward and softly touched his lips to hers, raising his hands to her face and tracing along the edge of her jaw. She lifted hers and ran them up his arms, wrapping her fingers around his wrists while positioning her legs on either side of his and lowering herself to his lap.

Reaching forward, she began undoing the buttons on his shirt. Just as she'd slid the first one through, Jace's hands caught hers. She pulled back and looked at him.

"Clary. Maybe we should wait. We don't know if this worked or not. I don't want—"

She silenced him with a finger to his lips, and then traced the curve of his mouth with it. "Your rune is complete. I think it worked. And besides, I trust you."

He lowered his head. "Clary."

Slipping her fingers under his chin, she lifted until their eyes met. "Touch me, Jace. I need you to touch me. I need to feel your arms around me. I'm never safer than when I'm right here." She ran her hand up his chest, resting over his heart. "Please hold me. Kiss me. Love me."

His gaze lingered on hers for a few more moments, focusing on one of her eyes and then the other, as if he were trying to find the answers there. After what felt like forever, he reached out and took her hand, raised it to his mouth and pressed his lips to the top. Traveling up her arm, he left more small kisses until he reached her shoulder, paused over the bite mark, and hesitantly touched his mouth to it, whispering a barely audible, "I'm sorry," into her skin.

Sliding his hand down her arm, he lifted and wrapped it around his neck at the same time he tucked his around her waist. Leaning into her, he placed his free hand behind her on the mattress, his fingers splaying across the comforter, and very gently lowered her back onto the bed. His body hovered over hers, their stares connected until he moved to her, touching her lips with his.

Clary lowered her hands from his neck down to his chest where she continued to undo his shirt. This time he didn't stop her. When she finished, she slipped her hands under the open flaps and slid them along his chest, and up over his shoulders, freeing him from the material. Her fingers trailed back down and across his stomach, over his sides and up his back. She wanted to feel every inch of him. Explore his whole body with hers.

He held himself up on his elbows, careful not to crush her beneath him. One of his hands lowered to her waist, his fingers slipping up under the bottom of her tanktop, trailing across her stomach. Her skin erupted in goosebumps at his touch and her breathing accelerated. She felt his body stiffen and his kiss stop.

"What's wrong?" she asked, her heart thudding at the thought that maybe he wasn't better.

Jace met her eyes and smiled. "Nothing. Nothing's wrong. I feel fine."

She raised her brows. "Just fine?"

"Better than fine." He leaned back down and kissed the end of her nose. "I love you Clarissa Fray."

Clary smiled and raised herself up until they both sat, him on his knees between her legs. She reached forward and trailed her fingers down his chest, ending at the belt buckle on his jeans. He closed his eyes and let out a slow breath. "Is it okay if I—" She tugged on his belt.

He opened his eyes and grinned, nodding his head.

She made quick work of the belt, sliding it through the loops of his jeans and tossing it across the room. He chuckled as it clanged against the far wall. Without hesitation, she reached forward and pulled open his pants, gesturing for him to rise. He did and she pushed them over his hips.

His hands traced along the bottom edge of her tank top before sliding up her body, taking the material with it. Just like her, he quickly undid her pants, pulling them off her legs and tossing them across the room. She giggled as they stared at each other, both only wearing their under clothes.

"Why are you laughing?" he asked.

She raised her hands and ran them over his shoulders and down his arms. "Because I'm happy."

He leaned forward and brushed his lips along her collarbone and up her neck, pausing at her ear to whisper, "Me too."

She shuddered and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him back down onto the mattress with her. He continued his way down her body, his hands and mouth missing not a single inch. She closed her eyes and focused on him, what he was doing, and how he made her feel. She heard his breath hitch again and he raised himself to her face again.

"Jesus Clary, don't do that."

"What?"

"Concentrate on it like that. You have no idea what it does to me."

"Really?" She raised a brow as a wicked smile spread over her lips. Closing her eyes, she focused on the way his touch affected her body, just the way she'd done with her emotions earlier. She let it build and build until she heard him curse. Opening her eyes, she met his, his expression feral with lust and need.

"You're going to be sorry you did that." His voice was low and rough.

"Oh, I don't think I'm going to be sorry." She smiled. "In fact, I think I may just like it."

"We'll see." He grinned and dove in to attack her mouth with his. She squealed against his assault, twisting her hands into his hair and pulling him closer. His arms wrapped around her, holding her body tight against his and pressing her into the mattress. Yeah, she was right. Not a single bone in her body regretted doing it now.

* * *

**Bats eyes innocently. How was that? Sigh. I liked it. :D**

**There are a couple more things to tie up and this puppy will be complete! Yeah! Okay, so I'm sad, but excited to start another fic! :D :D :D Review until you're blue in the face! I only need 219 to reach 1,000! I know you all can do it!!! XOXOXO**

**I'm curious...what color are Jace's undies in your mind? They are always black boxer briefs in mine--dunno why, he just seems like a black undies type of guy!  
**

**Visit the blog in my profile to see some pics! Also, a few fans are making some banners too! I'll put them up as soon and they finish!**

**P.S. Don't worry that Clary is not 'well enough' for...you know...she's actually been out for awhile, and it was only blood loss. The iratze works to heal that--it just takes a bit. No need for hospitalization since there was no demon poison involved. :D  
**


	46. Epilogue

**Is it wrong that I feel slightly like crying? *sniff* Well, here it is. The epilogue. The last of it. I hope it's been as fun of a ride for you as it has been for me. I'll write more at the end because I know you just want to get to it!**

**Chapter Songs:**

**_Crazy for This Girl_ by Lifehouse (Scene 1)**

**_Uprising_ by Muse (Scene 2)**

**_Meet Me at the Equinox_ by Death Cab for Cutie (Scene 3)**

*****All original Mortal Instruments characters owned by Cassandra Clare. Plot, interpretation and any undergarments or towels swathing Jace's figure belong to me.*****

* * *

Something soft and feathery brushed across Jace's face, pulling him from the depths of unconsciousness. He scrunched his nose against the tickling sensation, eliciting a quiet giggle from somewhere above him. Before surrendering to full awareness, he assessed his surroundings. He was definitely in a bed surrounded by soft sheets, and there was someone sitting on top of him, legs straddling his body. His lips pulled up into grin and he opened his eyes, meeting two of the most gorgeous green ones he'd ever seen. "Not that I'm complaining, but why are you sitting on me?"

Clary leaned down, positioning her elbows on either side of his head and holding her face in her hands, her nose just centimeters from his. "I was just looking at you."

Jace raised a brow. "You can't do that beside me?"

She smiled and nudged his nose with hers, sparking a warmth inside him. "What fun is that?"

Jace brought his hands up and slid them under hers, cupping her cheeks. "That's my girl. I've taught you well." Before waiting for a response he pulled her face to his and took her bottom lip in between his, sucking lightly. Clary's hands dropped to the pillow and twisted into his hair, holding herself firmly against him.

After a moment, she broke away and rested her forehead against his. "So . . . how do you feel this morning?"

He pushed her face back slightly so he could see her clearly. His fingers moved over her cheeks, brushing her hair behind her ears. "I feel perfect."

"Really?" Her voice came out quiet and her eyes widened.

Jace realized she'd been harboring the fear that maybe what happened between them on the roof hadn't worked. He quickly assessed himself and found nothing of the bloodlust or repressed anger from before. "Really," he answered as he pulled her back for another chaste kiss. "I promise."

Clary relaxed into him, her chest flush against his and her thighs gently squeezing him through the sheets. She opened her mouth against his and allowed him in for a long, slow kiss. His hands moved from her cheeks, down her neck, and trailed her back. Just as he was about to pull her back under the sheets with him he heard a loud knock at the door. Clary jerked back and turned her head toward the sound, moving her body to get up and answer it. Jace gripped her hips and held her still.

"Leave it," he whispered and met her eyes. They danced with mischief and he could only imagine how his looked.

She smiled and leaned back down to him when the knock sounded again. Jace swore under his breath as Isabelle's muffled voice came through the door. "Clary, I don't even want to _think_ about what you're doing in there, but Mom will be in the training room in ten minutes to evaluate you!"

Clary groaned and laid her forehead against Jace's chest for a moment before meeting his eyes with an apologetic expression. "I forgot. I have to go."

Jace nodded and placed a small kiss on her forehead. "Can you hand me my jeans?"

Clary raised a brow and hopped off him, bending at the side of the bed and picking his pants up off from the floor. She eyed them with what appeared to be indecision. "What if I don't want to?"

He threw the sheets back, sat on the side of the bed, and reached out, pulling Clary to him by her hips. Looking up at her, he grinned. "You know I'm all for staying in this room with you all day with or without my pants, but I think if you wait much longer Isabelle is going to bust through that door. And I don't think she'll be too pleased to see me in my underwear."

Clary stuck her bottom lip out and pouted. "But you look so good without them."

Jace raised a brow. "Which? My pants or my underwear?"

She leaned down and brushed her lips against his. "Both."

Jace reached up and grabbed her face. "God, you make me crazy." He crushed his lips to hers, drawing out a soft sigh from her.

Another loud bang sounded at the door. "Come on, Clary. I _really_ don't want to have to barge in."

Clary growled against Jace's mouth, to which he couldn't help but laugh. She pulled away and picked up a pair of yoga pants, slipping them on as he stepped into his jeans and t-shirt. Plopping himself back on the bed, he folded his arms behind his head, grinning widely at Clary as she went to the door and pulled it open.

Isabelle walked in and scowled at Jace.

"Well, good morning to you too, Sunshine."

"God, you are in way too good of a mood this morning which means I really don't want to think about what happened in here."

Jace grinned and hopped up once more, grabbing his shoes and making his way over to Clary. He placed two fingers under her chin and lifted until her lips met his. "Good luck. I'll see you later."

She wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned into him, not ready to end their kiss quite so soon. Jace ignored Isabelle's gagging sounds and hugged Clary closer to him. As he pulled away, her eyes met his. "Later."

He grinned and nodded before moving into the hall. The door closed with a click behind him and he heard Isabelle's voice droning on inside the room. He chuckled to himself, thinking he should probably feel sorry for Clary for having to endure Isabelle's inquisition, but he didn't. He'd had to deal with her for years and as awful as it was for him to think it, he was kind of glad it wasn't him on the receiving end. Besides, he'd make it up to Clary later. A smile broke over his face at the thought.

Opening his door, he stopped abruptly as he spied what awaited him. Maryse stood at the end of his bed; her hair slicked back and pulled into a tight bun at the back of her head. Her face was pinched into a disapproving scowl and her arms were crossed tightly over her chest. "Where were you, Jace?"

For a moment, he considered lying, but everyone knew he was a crappy liar and that he didn't like to do it anyway. He sighed. "I was with Clary. Where else would I be?"

Maryse closed her eyes and lifted one hand, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Do I even want to know whether or not you slept in this bed last night?"

Jace shifted on his feet. "No. Probably not."

She sighed and opened her eyes. They bored into Jace making him feel slightly uncomfortable. "You know if anything . . . happens . . . Jocelyn will probably murder you herself."

Nudging the door shut with his foot, he stood with his hands in his pockets, looking directly into Maryse's eyes. He'd found that when she brought up certain—sensitive—subjects, it unnerved her just enough to back down when he looked her straight in the eye. "Are we going to talk about this again?"

Her brows lifted. She wasn't backing down. Hell.

"Do we need to?"

"No."

She sighed. Her posture indicated she didn't believe him, but that she didn't have the energy for his crap right then. Good. He wasn't interested in discussing this subject with her at the moment—or at any other time, honestly.

"I have to go conduct Clary's evaluation, but when I'm done I need you to meet me in the library. Half hour okay?"

"Okay."

She walked forward, pausing when she reached his side. Turning her head slightly, she placed one hand on his shoulder, patted lightly and then stole out the door. Jace pinched his brows in confusion. What was that all about?

Deciding that he would soon find out, he figured he could at least take a shower. After all of the—activities—of the night before, he most likely needed one. He crossed the room to the bathroom and stepped inside, taking no time at all to strip off his dirty clothes, throw them in the hamper and turn on the warm water. He let it roll over his shoulders for a minute before washing quickly and stepping out. Just as he wrapped a towel around his waist, he heard a soft knock on the door.

Holding the ends in his hand, he made his way into his room and opened the door a crack. Clary barreled in, kicking the door shut behind her and leaping up onto him, wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, not even noticing when his towel fell to the ground in a effort to catch her.

"Guess what?" she asked, her eyes dancing with excitement.

Jace tried to form a coherent response to her question but had a hard time concentrating when he stood there completely naked with Clary's body wrapped around his. "What?" He managed to get out.

"Maryse just did my evaluation and she said I was ready to go out on real hunts—as long as I'm supervised! Isn't that amazing?"

It was and it wasn't. It was because of the fact that she'd trained so hard and was so excited about it. It wasn't because now he had to worry double time about her, but he knew if he said that she'd just get angry with him, so he plastered on a smile and told her what she wanted to hear. "It is. I knew you could do it. I'm so proud of you."

Her smile faded and her eyes widened. "Really?" she said in a quiet voice. "I was worried you'd be upset."

"Upset? Why would I be upset?"

"Because I know you don't like the idea of me hunting."

He swallowed hard. "You're right, I don't. But I know it's what you want and I want what you want."

Clary smiled again and leaned in to place a soft kiss on his waiting lips. "Thank you. You don't know how much that means to me to hear you say that."

"Why wouldn't I say that?"

"It's just—" Her brow crinkled and her eyes flicked up to his hair. "Jace, why are you all wet?" she asked like she'd just noticed the water dripping over his forehead and into his eyes.

He smiled. "I just got out of the shower when you came."

"Oh," she said and then peered over his shoulder, no doubt taking in the fact that he'd dropped his towel. "Oh!" She glanced back at him, a sly smile forming over her lips. "Excellent." Her hands twisted up into his wet hair and pulled his face to hers.

"Clary," he said against her mouth. "I have to meet with Maryse in fifteen minutes."

"That's enough time." She reached to the collar of her shirt and pulled it over her head, throwing it to the ground and wrapping her arms back around his neck. "Well, Jace Lightwood, I'm all yours. Do what you will with me."

He bit his lip and grinned. "Oh you _really_ shouldn't have said that."

Clary laughed and squeezed him tighter as his lips made their way up her neck, ending at her lips once more.

***

Jace walked down the hall, Clary's hand clasped firmly in his. She couldn't contain her giggles as they neared the library doors. He couldn't help but smile at her giddiness. He supposed it probably was a little funny considering what they'd just finished doing and that he was about to go meet with his mother. And it probably was pretty giggle inducing—if he weren't a man and expressly forbidden to giggle. He could chuckle, he guessed, and did because her happiness was infectious.

As they reached the door, he placed his finger over her lips and said, "Shhh. Maryse already tried giving me 'the lecture' again this afternoon."

Clary's eyes widened and her mouth fell open. "What? She did not."

Jace laughed. "I swear, she did."

"Oh my God."

He couldn't hold back another laugh as he twisted the knob and pushed the door open. Maryse waited near the desk. A man Jace had never seen before stood next to her.

"Jace, you're right on time. Oh, and you brought Clary. Good."

Jace peered behind him, taking in Clary's surprised face. When he turned back to Maryse, he eyed her carefully. Her face was pinched in anxious annoyance. "I didn't bring Clary. She just walked with me. She's going now." His protective radar was going off and he stepped in front of her, guarding her body with his own. He reached out and pressed his hand against Clary's abdomen, gently pushing her backward.

The man standing next to Maryse stepped forward and raised his hand. "There's no need to be cautious. We're no threat to anyone."

"We?" Jace asked just as two larger men came from behind him and grabbed his and Clary's arms, securing them behind their backs. He struggled against their hold, wishing for just a moment that he still had the vampiric strength. It would have been so easy to shrug them off with that. His eyes flicked to Maryse's. "What the hell. Mom?"

Maryse turned to the man next to her. "Finnes you said you wouldn't do anything to them. You said you just wanted to talk."

He glanced at her and grinned. "Well, of course I would say that. You wouldn't let me near him if I'd told you the truth now would you?"

"You son of a—" Maryse's rant was cut short when another large man appeared at her side and restrained her as well.

The man named Finnes moved toward Jace and Clary, his face speculative. He stopped when he neared them, his hands clasped in front of him. "My name is Finnes Meridan, the new Inquisitor.

"I should have known," Jace said. "Only the Clave would think this," he pulled against the arms holding him, "would be more effective than, oh I don't know, actually talking first."

Finnes looked down at Jace. "You do not have a reputation conducive to listening."

"What are you talking about? I listen just fine. It's following orders I have issues with. Those are two very different things."

Finnes' grin widened. "Yes, well. We didn't feel the need to take that chance." He gestured off to his side and said, "Marcus."

A man in a long white coat came from behind Jace and Clary. In his hands, he carried two gun-like contraptions. Only instead of a barrel on the end there was a long needle attached to an empty vial. Before Jace could utter another word, Marcus jabbed the needle into his arm and pulled back the plunger. The vial filled with crimson liquid.

Marcus moved to Clary next, her eyes still wide and fearful. Jace struggled against the arms pinning him back but it was no use. The needle was in her arm and withdrawn faster than he could have done anything anyway.

Anger seethed out of him. He watched as Marcus moved over to the desk and pressed each needle into a capped vial. Squeezing a drop out of each, Marcus watched as the blood swirled around in the clear liquid. After a moment, his head snapped up and he met Finnes' eyes, shaking his head.

"Ah," Finnes said with a slightly disappointed tone before turning back to Jace and Clary.

"What the hell was that for?" Jace asked.

"Just a test—to see if Stephen had infected either of you with his so called serum.

Rage exploded behind Jace's eyes. "I already told the Clave he hadn't."

"Yes, well, Stephen told us differently. Because you both have a tendency to be traitorous we couldn't take a chance on either of your words."

"Fine. You got your little test. Now let us go."

Finnes nodded to the two men behind Jace and Clary and their arms were released. Jace reached for Clary immediately, wrapping her securely in his embrace, never taking his eyes from Finnes.

The man holding Maryse let go and she rushed to Jace's side, her eyes remorseful. Jace watched as the five men gathered together near a newly opened portal. Marcus held the vials of Jace and Clary's blood reverently.

"What are you going to do with that?" Jace nodded toward the blood.

Finnes smiled and ushered the others through the portal. "You two are an enigma to us. For some reason you seem to be the target of every psychopath out there. We just want to know why. What is it about what Valentine did to you that makes you special? How did it change you and how can it be used against us? Should we worry about someone else trying to take advantage of your—differences?"

"What is our blood going to prove? It's not like no one has taken it before."

"Oh, many things my boy. Many things." Finnes stepped one foot through the portal and turned back to them. "We'll be in touch," he said before disappearing completely through the portal.

Shortly after, the gateway closed, leaving a stunned Jace, Clary, and Maryse looking on, wondering just what Finnes' words meant.

***

Jace fingered the black material, a feeling of discontent washing over him. He knew it was time and that he had to let go of his overprotective tendencies. But he couldn't help feeling like he needed to shield Clary. It didn't matter to him how much training she had. She was still his responsibility. He didn't want to put her out there. Didn't want to risk her anymore than necessary.

Clary came out of her bathroom, her hair pulled up into a loose ponytail and wearing only a tank top and underwear. She sat down next to him and pulled his hands into hers. "I know you're worried. Just please, trust me to know what I'm doing."

His eyes met hers. "I do trust you. That's not what this is about."

She reached forward and ran her fingers through the hair just above his ear, tucking it gently behind before laying her hand on his cheek. "I know you just want to protect me and you do." She leaned into him and laid her head on his shoulder. "I know you'll always take care of me and now I can take care of you a little bit too."

Jace wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tightly against him, and kissing the top of her head. "You already take care of me."

She looked up and smiled before kissing him lightly under his jaw. Standing, she reached for the Shadowhunter gear lying next to Jace. "Do you want to help me get dressed?"

He pursed his lips and looked up at her under his lashes. "Dressing you is not really my forte, but I suppose I could try."

Clary scrunched her nose and slipped her feet into the pants, pulled them up over her thighs and fastened the button at her waist. Jace grabbed the top and gently placed it over her head, being careful not to snag her hair, and pulled it down. Once he had it over her torso, he reached behind and carefully pulled her ponytail out from underneath. Taking a moment to study her, he reached forward and brushed his fingers over her cheeks. She smiled up at him, her face the picture of innocence. His heart clenched with pride and grief. Pride for all she'd accomplished. Grief for all she'd lost and would continue to lose in this life.

He turned and picked up her weapons belt, filled to the brim with various hardware including her daggers. Wrapping his arms around her, he draped it about her waist, fastening the buckles slowly and one at a time.

Clary watched him, her eyes taking in each of his painful movements. When he finished and attempted to pull away, she placed her hand on his arm. He stopped instantly.

"It's okay, Jace."

He closed his eyes, let out a slow breath, and nodded. "I know." Opening his eyes once more, he focused on hers. "I know. You're ready. I'm ready."

Standing on tip-toes, she stretched and touched her lips to his. Her fingers ran along his cheek and up into his hair. "We're ready," she whispered against his mouth. Her hand trailed down his face, his neck, over his shoulder, down his arm, and finally stopped at his hand. She traced its contours until her fingers entwined with his.

"Now, let's go kill some demons."

He smiled. "Could you be any sexier?"

"Probably." She bit her lower lip and grinned. "If you're a good boy, maybe I'll show you later."

He shook his head. "God, I love you."

"I know." She scrunched her nose and kissed him once more. "I love you, too." She tugged on his arm and they walked out into the hall, their hands clasped tightly together, their belts filled with weapons. Their destiny's laid out before them and their paths already chosen. They were warriors, Nephilim, Shadowhunters.

*~*~*The End*~*~*

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**So, there you have it. You made it to the end!! (And so did I *wipes brow*). I hope you appreciated the amount of flufftasticness I packed in there. HELLO! You got both boxer brief Jace AND towel (not not mention towel-LESS) Jace!!! Oh yes, the hotness overfloweth! Oh, and how much do you love me for the ALL JACE POV?!?! Huh, huh? Yeah, I thought you'd like that…;)**

**As you can see, I left a few things open. Now, I have no sequel planned, but if I do decide to do one, I can take right off from here and have a built in issue already. **

**Thank you all again for your support and encouragement throughout this story. I am beyond thrilled with the response!**

**I hope you all will enjoy my newest fic TURBULENCE as well. Hope to see you all there!**

**XOXOXOXOXOXO**

**Peace! ~Your Humble Fluff Queen.**


	47. AN Regarding Simon's Mark

I apologize for putting up an A/N, especially after this story has been complete for over two years (I can't even believe that!). No, it's not an announcement of a sequel, sorry. :( I just have to clear something up for those coming to this story now.

There has been a rash of new readers (hello!) to this story and I've been getting a lot of comments, questions, and PMs about Simon's Mark. I'd just like to clear up the confusion.

It's important to know that Rogue was started before Cassandra Clare even announced she would be writing beyond City of Glass. As far as any of us knew, COG was the end of the series. Rogue was written as a continuation of City of Glass (so, BEFORE any of the events in COFA.)

As many of you probably recall, in City of Glass, we had no idea what Simon's Mark did. In fact, while he was in the battle at the end, it did nothing. It didn't blow up any demons or anything, so there was no way for me to know what it did when writing Rogue. There was no mention of its power until City of Fallen Angels. This story was long completed before then, and I honestly didn't want to try and invent what it might do, so I left it as unknown.

Yes, I know what the Mark does now, but please just remember that Rogue is an alternate course to COFA, COLS, and COHF. It is not written in conjunction with them. It was written with only the knowledge given to us in COB, COA, and COG, so anything gained beyond those is not relevant here.

Thanks for reading! ~ddpjclaf


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